Rizzles Ficlets
by lespetitesmorts
Summary: A collection of random, unrelated ficlets concerning Rizzles. Various ratings. Most likely will contain lots and lots of fluff. I found a lot of headcanons on tumblr, and some of them inspired me so a few of those are here. I take requests through PM on here or through tumblr: lespetitesmortsde. Please note, updates will no longer be once daily. Spring's a busy season.
1. Tracing Patterns

It had been another long day for the medical examiner, racing through a mountain of paperwork and five autopsies in order to get back to the house in time for Thursday night dinner. Every Thursday, Jane cooks an amazing Italian feast and then they settle onto the couch together, lying with their bodies flush as they watched a documentary or action flick.

Maura felt the reassuring touch of Jane's fingers on her back, tracing patterns across her clothed skin; a habit the detective had developed over the past month. Always comforting, always firm and gentle. Every other night, Maura simply embraced the touch, but tonight she almost startled. There seemed to be a rhythm, a pattern to the swirls across her skin. She fought her drooping eyelids to concentrate on the tracings.

_Are those letters?_ She wondered, brow furrowing. The same letters repeating over and over again. Her body tensed as her mind figured out what they were spelling out.

**I love you.** Her heartbeat quickened and her breath caught in her throat for a minute. She felt the need to say something, her mouth was open and words were ready to spill from her lips and then she noticed a change in the pattern, different letters arranging themselves on her back. **Refrigerator.** Unable to help herself, she chuckled from her place on the couch. The kind of full-body laughter that can't be contained. She turned her head to stare at Jane, eyes bright with mirth, because the fingers stopped tracing letters.

"What's so funny?" Jane asked, face set in incomprehension.

"Really, Jane?" Maura replied. She laughed again. "Refrigerator?"

The detective blushed and lowered her eyes. "I didn't think you noticed what I was writing."

Maura smiled, showing off her teeth. "I love you, too."


	2. Nutella Solves Everything

It was a stupid fight. Jane is very well aware of the fact that Maura is a grown woman and thus she is perfectly capable of doing anything she wants. But really? The woman wears six inch heels to work, nearly falls into a pond at the latest crime scene (and would have had Jane not caught her arm on the way down), and almost twists her ankle sitting down at her office chair. Jane was _concerned_. She didn't want Maura breaking her neck for no apparent reason.

Then Maura got all indignant at the suggestion that maybe she needs to change her shoes and left work early in a huff. And for Christ's sake, even Jo Friday sided with Maura which is part of the reason why Jane is slumped against her couch, legs stretched out on the floor, with a giant jar of Nutella in her hand, complete with spoon. There's a baseball game on her television, but she's too focused on the hazelnut-chocolatey goodness being spooned into her mouth, melting on her tongue to pay attention to it. And there's a beer on one of Maura's coasters on her coffee table, but that's consumed before her Nutella runs out so she's got a dilemma. _How do I get another beer without putting down the Nutella or getting up?_

She sighs as she realizes she can only get away with half of her thought and heaves herself off the floor for the trek to her fridge, Nutella still in hand. She grabs a beer and almost drops it in surprise as Jo Friday appears from out of nowhere and brushes against her leg. The door shuts and Jane looks over to see Maura standing there in flats.

The doctor's eyes travel from Jane's face to the two completely unrelated items the detective is carrying, but she doesn't comment. No matter how strange they are together.

"I'm sorry," they exclaim at the same time, and then they chuckle at their synchronicity.

"I shouldn't have over reacted to your suggestion. Truthfully, you were really quite correct. I shouldn't be wearing anything over five inches for work."

They walk towards each other and Jane remembers that her hands are full before she reaches Maura. She places the things on the counter before wrapping her arms around the pathologist's waist.

"I should've trusted you to make your own decisions, I was just concerned," she explains as she pulls them closer together.

"I know. It was rather stupid of me," Maura admits, blushing slightly.

"So why did you, then?" Jane asks, ever the curious investigator.

Maura's blush deepens and her eyes flick away from the intensity of Jane's gaze. "The other night you mentioned that you loved seeing me in high heels because they made my legs look extra-sexy..." The words are mumbled, like the doctor's embarrassed; a rare occurrence for the always practical medical examiner.

"Oh Maura," Jane smiles, fighting the urge to laugh, "everything about you is already extra-sexy."


	3. I'm Asking You

It's their first anniversary and Jane is nervous as hell. She's got the ring in her pocket and everything planned out with perfect precision. She's fidgeting in the driver's seat of Maura's Prius while the owner sits regally in the passenger seat, blindfolded but at ease. The questions came to a standstill about ten miles back, the doctor finally accepting the fact that Jane wanted this occasion to be a surprise.

They're bundled up because it's spring and where they're going will be cold. It's probably not the most romantic way Jane could have come up with to ask Maura, but she wants it to be special and Maura has been wanting this for _ages_. She spots their destination in the distance. The multicoloured fabric is easy to see in the setting sun's final rays. She takes a calming breath as she pulls into a gravel parking lot and parks the car.

Maura's bubbling with excitement behind her blindfold. It's almost time. She's felt the car stop, the light kiss Jane placed on her temple before getting out of the car. And there she is now, opening Maura's door and placing a firm hand on her elbow to help her up and out of her passenger seat. It's all very mysterious and thoughtful; Maura doesn't think she's ever been so in love with her secretly-sweet-as-honey detective. Until she's brought to a stop on what feels like grass and Jane takes her blindfold off, revealing her gift.

"Oh Jane," she sighs happily. "Are you sure about this?" she asks, gazing up at the balloon filling with hot air.

Jane shrugs, "I'm sure about you." She wraps her arm around Maura's shoulders, oblivious to the butterflies fluttering in the doctor's stomach, and leads her into the basket.

It's only a couple of minutes before the captain has them lifting off the ground and the breeze is brisk as the sun dips lower on the horizon. Jane arranged for a bottle of champagne and two plastic flutes to be up here with them even though it's only a twenty minute cruise. Her arms are wrapped around Maura, attempting to shield the doctor from the chill creeping into both their bones.

Maura tilts her head to whisper in Jane's ear, "Thank you so much for taking me here." And she pecks the detective on the cheek.

Jane's been silently freaking out ever since she felt the basket waver as they rose into the air. But Maura's words and her kiss and her touch are comforting. She forgets where she is for the moment and a hand slips into her pocket. She turns the doctor around slowly so that she's no longer taking in the golden view, but staring straight into Jane's deep brown eyes.

"While we're here, there's something I've been meaning to ask you..." she lets the sentence trail off at the questioning glance Maura's sending her, knowing that as soon as she makes her next move everything will be crystal clear. She clears the lump in her throat and takes Maura's left hand in her own before getting down on one knee. She gazes into those beautifully expressive eyes, now sparkling with moisture as the realization hits.

Maura's heart is pounding wildly in her chest. She feels like she might implode because Jane, her Jane, is several hundred feet up in the air and pulling out a ring box.

"Doctor Maura Dorothea Isles," Jane pauses to grin at the middle name usage. "I have a question for you. The most important question I could ever ask anyone. And I'm asking you. Maur, I know that I can be an idiotic ass sometimes. I know that every once in a while, I drink a few too many beers or I push you away when I should just let you hold me. But I swear to you that no one loves you as much as I do. No one wants to be with you as much as me because you are the best thing that has _ever_ happened to me. You're the best thing that could ever happen to anyone. You're passionate and beautiful and such an inherently good person that it scares me sometimes. _You_ scare me sometimes because I've never wanted, I've never needed anyone as much as I need and want you. I want you to be mine, Maura, and I want to be yours. Only yours, forever." There are tears threatening to escape from Jane's eyes; Maura's eyes have already lost that battle. They're both smiling and Jane feels no qualms or terrible gut feelings that she's making a mistake.

"Will you marry me?"

Maura falls to her knees in front of Jane, tears glistening on her cheeks. She pulls the detective's face towards her and kisses her sweetly on the lips over and over again, murmuring "Yes" between each meeting of their mouths. Jane pulls away from the contact with the biggest Rizzoli-grin lighting up her face so that she can place the ring on Maura's finger; where it will stay for the remainder of time itself.


	4. Private Property

Maura's never really noticed Jane's interactions with Pike when the detective isn't working with her on a case. This dance they have would never have gone on this long if she had.

Okay, so maybe she's snooping. But it's her morgue, they're in her autopsy lab, and the window looks out into her office. She has every right. She just can't believe that Jane is _flirting_ with him. And he's flirting _back_!

Her eyes narrow into slits as she watches the detective step closer to Pike and innocently brush her arm against his chest as she points something out on the body in front of them. _Is Pike smiling?!_ The two chatter on for a few moments more, Jane sending Pike soft smiles and Pike seemingly rattling off bucketfuls of information. Just as Jane's about to leave, she catches Maura's eye through the window and gulps.

Maura looks pissed. She's got fire in her eyes and she is completely _pissed_.

_Fuck,_ Jane thinks as she walks into the hallway. She tries to tiptoe past the door to Maura's office, but a peek through her lashes lets her know she's been caught.

"Oh, hey Maur..." Jane says, attempting to sound non-chalant. But Maura's eyes are ablaze. She doesn't respond, merely grasps the detective's forearm firmly and drags her to the nearest supply closet. As soon as they're within the confines of the small space, Jane's back is against the door and Maura is attacking her with aggressive, possessive kisses along her neck and collarbone.

They have a strict no-sex-at-work policy and Maura would never break that (although she is ridiculously close to telling the rules to fuck right off), but she knows that there are other ways to get her satisfaction.

Jane is whimpering, _whimpering_, against the door, completely and utterly turned on by jealous Maura Isles. She can feel the doctor's tongue sliding against her skin, her teeth biting and nipping, but it hurts so good and she can't even form words because pristine, put together Maura Isles is coming undone in a supply closet.

Maura pulls away from Jane to inspect her work and she flushes with a twinge of embarrassment. The bruise on the detective's neck is way, way larger than the doctor had intended when she'd dragged Jane in here. An idea sparks in her mind and she moves her hand to her pocket, slowly withdrawing a black permanent marker.

Jane opens her eyes at the loss of Maura's contact and registers the blush on her face. "What's the matter, Maur?"

The pathologist's eyes flash with fire once more and the blush fades away. "Nothing. And before you say it, you know I can't lie." Jane concedes this point grudgingly. "Now, I want you to do something for me," Maura says as she wraps her arms around Jane's neck and uncaps the pen.

"Anything. You know that." Jane's voice has dropped to a raspy whisper.

"Let me do one thing to you and then go back into that lab and show Dr. Pike," she bites the name out with a trace of acid, "your neck."

Jane is freaking out. She knows there's gotta be a huge ass hickey on her neck. She knows that if she does, in fact, go back in there, she may never get timely autopsy reports from that man again. But she also knows that if she doesn't do this for Maura, she will have to spend at least tonight alone in her apartment. She swallows the lump in her throat and nods her acquiescence. Maura smiles as she brings the marker into view and presses it against the skin just below the love bite.

Jane feels her write something but her brain's still too fuzzy from their brief encounter to puzzle out the letters she used. Maura's pen jumps off her collarbone area with a flourish and she smiles up at Jane, gives her a peck on the cheek.

"Go. I'll be watching," Maura promises and then Jane is gone and she bustles back to her office window. She loves the aghast look on Pike's face as he registers the posessive mark and accompanying message. He looks over to her office and she gives him a wide grin, thoroughly pleased at the turn of events.

Jane casts a look over at Maura as well; is pleased at the victoriously happy smile Maura is flaunting. She leaves the autopsy room quickly and heads for the nearest bathroom.

The bruise is larger than the face of a watch, but it's the words underneath that make her smirk.

"Property of Dr. Isles."


	5. Something Borrowed

This could not be happening. Maura absolutely refused to believe that this was possible. There was no way that she didn't have any clean clothes here. She always had clean clothes at Jane's. A good quarter of her wardrobe was here. Or at least, used to be here. Until they'd decided to move in together and crap, she'd moved all her stuff back to her house. Along with most of Jane's clothing.

If Maura Isles could swear, now would be the perfect opportunity to throw out an f-bomb.

She groaned as she deliberated her options. She could either wear the clothes she came here in last night (although the shirt did have that red wine stain...) or she could, gasp, wear something of Jane's.

Not that there was anything wrong with Jane's wardrobe! The detective looked attractive in all of her garments. But Maura was a chic dress and sky-high heels kind of girl. And Jane... well, Jane was not.

She sighed as she opened the door to Jane's closet. It was one day, nay, it was a mere eightish hours and she'd have scrubs on for half that time. She could do this.

Settling on one of Jane's black suits, Maura stepped out of her towel and into the outfit.

"Maura, coffee's ready, we gotta go, babe," Jane called from the kitchen.

"Be right down!" Maura answered, fixing her hair in the bathroom mirror. She left the bedroom and entered the kitchen.

"Do you want a bagel or-" words stopped flowing from her mouth once Jane looked at Maura. "You're in my clothes." She stated obviously, a lump forming in her throat. The clothes were a little big for the petite pathologist, but it was tight and form fitting in all the right places. The pants hung loosely on her hips, but the white shirt tucked into them helped keep them falling down. Jane absently licked her lips.

Maura frowned, looking down at herself. "Is it not okay? I just didn't have any clean-" Jane stifled any more comments with a lingering kiss, almost throwing herself across the kitchen at Maura.

"Maur, you look sexy as hell right now."

"Language, Jane!" Maura protested mildly, smiling.

"Seriously, if we didn't actually have to leave for work right this very minute, I would have you on your back because you seriously don't know what seeing you like this is doing to me."

Maura cast her scientific eye over the detective, noting the faint flush and dilated pupils among other signs of arousal. She quirked an eyebrow and grinned suggestively at the detective.

"I think I may have to borrow your clothes more often..."


	6. Never Stop

The espresso machine took forever to heat up. Sure, it made some great lattes and crap, but good old instant coffee did it for Jane every single time. She'd hidden the small canister in Maura's cookie jar the last time she was here and she couldn't be more grateful for her planning ahead.

Technically, the detective wasn't supposed to be here this morning. They hadn't spent the night together and they hadn't made plans for breakfast or anything else today, opting instead to play it by ear through text. But Jane had woken up in the early dawn and stretched her arm out across the frigid sheets where Maura should have been; she didn't like it. She didn't like it one bit. So she scooted over here as the sun rose and let herself in, listening to the sounds of the doctor moving around upstairs while she puttered about in the kitchen.

She'd heard the water turn on a few minutes ago, but now there was a new sound floating down from the upper floor. A voice, soft and gentle, singing a tune Jane couldn't quite make out. The chuckle that escaped her lips couldn't have been helped. Maura Isles was singing in the shower. Just when Jane thought she couldn't get more adorable.

Like the sneaky detective Jane was trained to be, she snuck up the stairs to stand outside the bathroom door, following the soulful voice.

"I will never stop trying. I will never stop watching as you leave. I will never stop losing my breath every time I see you looking back at me. I will never stop holding your hand. I will never stop opening your door. I will never stop choosing you, babe. I will never get used to you," the voice was confident within the safety of the bathroom. Jane could hear a low hum, possibly an instrumental section of the song the doctor had chosen.

"And with this love song to you, it's not a momentary phase. You are my life, I don't deserve you. But you love me just the same. And as the mirror says we're older, I will not look the other way. You are my life, my love, my only, and that's the one thing that won't change."

Jane was turning into a pile of mush as she leaned against the wall for support. Maura's voice trailed off into thin air, leaving behind the quiet hiss of the shower head. Jane's mind was racing ridiculously fast. True, Maura hadn't meant for her to hear it and it wasn't like she'd sung it to Jane and meant every single word, but in her mind and her heart, Jane thought she did.

An idea popped into her head and she scrambled toward Maura's office, scouring the shelves for a pad of post-it notes. She whipped out her phone and accessed the internet, googling the lyrics as her google-mouth was currently occupied. She wrote out the first lyrics of the song, the ones she'd missed while she'd been in the kitchen, on a few of the notes and then she darted to Maura's bedroom. She stuck the first note on the closet door, knowing how the doctor functioned in the morning. She placed two more within the closet, one by her dresses and one by her shoes, and then she slipped back downstairs.

The water stopped flowing through the pipes.

She placed the final note on the espresso machine for a moment, quickly gathering a mug and milk to make Maura her morning beverage. The finished product rested on the counter with the note stuck to it a mere five minutes later. Jane burrowed herself into a far corner of the kitchen, hands wrapped around her mug of liquid love, and awaited the arrival of the medical examiner.

Maura bounded down the stairs once she'd dressed, the post-it notes stuck together in one hand, a huge grin on her face as she exploded into the kitchen. She spotted the mug first with the final lyric attached before she spied her detective huddled in the corner.

"Jane!" She exclaimed, bubbling with happiness. "This is one of my favourite songs, how'd you know?" She inquired, smiling up at the detective and wrapping her arms around the taller woman's neck.

Jane smiled softly, "I heard you singing this morning, Maur."

The doctor's mouth popped open in an adorable 'o' before she could stop herself. She flushed across her cheeks before burying her face in her arm and Jane's neck due to embarrassment.

Jane chuckled at the sight, "Maur, you sounded lovely. Don't be embarrassed."

Pulling her face from the warmth of Jane's skin, Maura looked up at her. "I just really love that song." Jane pecked her forehead.

"I just really love you," she admitted before placing a kiss on Maura's lips.

**[Note: song displayed is "Never Stop" by Safetysuit]**


	7. Take the Lead

The unmarked pulls into the driveway, the driver taking note that the lights are on in the house. _Excellent_, Jane thinks. If Maura's still up, maybe she can be talked into a documentary and some cuddling on the couch. She steps up to the door and hopes against all hope that the door is locked. It swings open with an easy push and Jane huffs.

"Maura, how many times have I told-" the detective cuts herself short, taking in the view of Maura's kitchen. The doctor is currently shimmying in front of the refrigerator, white wires trailing out of her ears. Jane resists the urge to laugh loudly, opting instead to quietly remove her boots and lean against the wall to enjoy the show.

The medical examiner twirls around and Jane thinks the jig is up, but Maura's eyes are closed as she rocks around her kitchen, hopping gracefully to the music in her ears. Jane can't help laughing and a few escape through her hand-covered mouth. She adopts a slightly apologetic grin as she watches her girlfriend open her eyes in surprise and blush lightly from embarrassment. Maura cocks her head to the side, studying the detective before a smile brightens up her whole face. She steps to the speakers in the corner of the kitchen and plugs in her music player so that Jane can hear it too.

It's an upbeat track, excellent for rhythmic movements, so Maura shakes her butt as she makes her way over to Jane. She plants a peck on the detective's cheek and then she takes a hold of the reluctant hands, pulling her detective onto her make-shift dance floor.

"Maur, no, please," Jane says pleadingly, knowing where this is leading. But Maura simply shakes her head and moves their arms to the song, attempting to make Jane copy her and do the twist. She leans in to the ear covered by unruly dark hair and whispers, "Please, Jane? Dance with me." It's so small and wanting that Jane can't find the heart to refuse her. She has a small grimace on her face, but her eyes are locked with Maura's as she moves her feet, twisting just as her partner is.

In a split-second, all her inhibitions are gone. Jane starts to take the lead, instructing by example how to cabbage patch and, surprisingly, cha-cha. They move around the floor together, touching and laughing. They spin each other a few times, but then the song comes to a drawn-out end and Jane spins Maura into a dip, placing a soft kiss on Maura's nose as the last notes waver in the sudden silence.

"Thank you," Maura says, gazing up at her best friend. Jane smiles.

"I love you," she promises in return, and lets the good doctor stand up.


	8. The Joys of Packing

They're standing in the middle of their bedroom, surveying the carefully constructed chaos surrounding them, when Maura suddenly heads for Jane's drawer. The detective watches with curiosity as Maura pulls out a shiny object.

"We almost forgot!" Maura exclaims as she holds up her prize. Jane chuckles as she shakes her head at the doctor's antics. "Carry-on or checked?" she asks, looking between two different piles of luggage. She pauses abruptly. "Are they even allowed in carry-on luggage?" She ponders aloud, a look of concentration overtaking her features.

"Definitely," Jane answers, smoothly walking over and plucking them from the pathologist's grasp. Maura raises an inquisitive eyebrow at her retreating figure. "I checked," Jane offers, shrugging indifferently.

"Well, I think someone deserves an award for doing such excellent research," Maura smiles mischievously.

"Oh yeah?" Jane asks, a grin spreading across her face. "Like what?"

"Like I think there's a new club I want to join when we get on the plane and those handcuffs would make an interesting accompaniment, don't you think?" Seduction oozes from every word as Maura closes the distance between them. Jane can only gulp and nod in response.

"Sounds like fun," she comments. "Think they'll let me join, too?" She wraps her arms around Maura's slender waist. The doctor appraises Jane with a lingering once-over before nodding appreciatively.

"Definitely."


	9. Leave Me in a Lonely Grave

**Warning: Not fluffy. So not fluffy.**

The grass was damp, courtesy of the near-constant cover of rain Boston was experiencing. The lone figure sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest could not have cared less about the weather. The brief break in the torrential assault came to an end as the downpour resumed with even more intensity than before. Her clothes were already soaked, not that she noticed, but the slight warmth that had begun to leech into the freezing garments was soon chased away by the fresh chill of the new rain.

She let out a sniffle and used the cuff of her sleeve to move the water around on her face, mixing the tears and rain further. Previously gorgeous hazel eyes, alight with the promise of life and love had grown dull within the span of seconds two days ago. Although she knew it wasn't literally possible for her entire world to shatter, that's the only way she could describe the feeling of losing the most important person in her life. It was the only way to describe the feeling of the knowledge that she'll never hear the token sarcasm, never again experience waking up next to the unruly, sexily mussed hair, or gaze into those wonderfully, adoringly expressive brown eyes she'd fallen in love with.

It was like suffocating on oxygen; something that shouldn't be possible and yet continues to occur. She swiped at her nose again out of reflex; the action wasn't actually accomplishing anything. One hand played idly with the grass, curling the leaves around her fingers, stroking the individual green fronds. Her body rocked slowly, wracked with distraught sobs.

They put her in the ground today. Everything she ever was, everything she could have been is gone. All the potential sapped away by cruel injustice. All the things that made her Jane will be decomposed by bugs and parasites and nothing will remain in time.

Maura hasn't been in to work since; neither has she eaten nor slept despite Angela's best attempts. It was too hard to dig herself out of the well of her misery; she'd rather just let it fill with the rain and drown in it.

Her heart constricted in her chest, each beat thundering with an unfixable despair.

When she first met Jane, she'd been used to people leaving her; her parents (both biological and adoptive), friends, lovers, even Ian. But when Jane came along it was like a new life had opened up before her eyes, like she had a chance for something better. Jane was always there for her, she never strayed, and she made her feel special and normal and loved and all of those things that she'd thought she wasn't worthy of feeling. She'd stepped away from icily professional Doctor Isles to become the warm and friendly Maura. Instead of being rejected for her quirks, she was embraced with welcoming arms. All of the family she had were inherited from her friendship and subsequent relationship with Jane.

And now she was gone and Maura didn't know how to go on. She'd had this taste of a life with Jane Rizzoli, but some psychopath with a gun and a little girl for a hostage took that away from her. It was the way she'd want to go, of course. In the line of duty. Going down so that an innocent life could be saved, but it didn't make it any easier. She was still gone.

Numb fingers reached out in front of her to carress the polished stone, to trace the letters of the name for the woman she'd grown to adore.

Maura wanted to be angry at Jane for leaving her. She wanted to break things and curse and drink her beer until she couldn't feel anything anymore, but that wasn't fair. Jane had lost so much more than Maura had. Jane had lost the promise of possibility entirely.

She spoke softly to the wind, the first words she'd uttered in a while, "I was going to marry you, Jane Rizzoli. I was going to make you curl up on the couch with me at night to watch games and documentaries. I was going to force you to eat better so that I could have you around for a little longer." The tears intensified for a few moments because of that particular thought. "But more than anything, I was going to love you and be there for you, no matter what. Just like you've always been there for me." Her hand grasped at her chest, searching for the necklace she'd been wearing since the funeral.

Neither Angela nor Maura had been in a state to collect Jane's personal effects, so Frankie had bitten the bullet for them. He'd found a ringbox with a three-tier engagement ring enclosed. He almost smiled when he saw it. Maura had received it this morning, before the limo pulled up in front of her house to pick them all up for the procession.

She'd never take it off.

"You're my one and done, Jane. My only one and done." Tear-soaked eyes lifted from the grave to the stormy sky. "I love you."


	10. RAWR!

Jane was watching over TJ, waiting for Maura to come home and join them, when the doctor texted her to say that she was being held up and to eat without her. Jane sent her back a sad face before returning her attention to the five year-old on the floor with her.

"So, little man, seems like we're on our own for dinner. What would you like?" Jane smiled at TJ's joyful expression, knowing exactly what the little mongrel would want.

"Dinosaur chicken nuggets!" he squealed, jumping up from the floor to tug Jane toward the kitchen. She chuckled and allowed herself to be pulled away.

"Alright kid," she said, peering into the freezer and pulling out the brand new box of nuggets, "how hungry are you?" Her gaze flipped back between the box and the child sitting at the bar stool in front of her.

His eyes grew shy as he bashfully asked, "can we make the whole box? Please?"

It was worth considering. The kid would be stuffed at the end, and so would Jane, but come on, these things were fantastic. And Maura couldn't punish her for this... the kid asked for it. She tossed them in the oven and set the timer so they could cook without constant attention. Then the game was on. Jane gave TJ a look that had him running away and giggling madly as she chased him. They took turns chasing each other down and tickling the other to shrieks and laughs.

TJ was completely worn out by the time Jane picked him up and dropped him on the couch, the timer beeping in the background of the highlights being showcased on television. Briefly, she considered serving them right in the pan, but after some thought decided it would be far too easy for TJ to burn himself. She tossed them on a plate, grabbed the bottle of ketchup she'd hidden in Maura's fridge, and set them on the coffee table.

Her nephew flew off the couch as the food hit the table, opting instead to sit on the floor so the nuggets would be within easy reach. Jane took the opportunity to flop onto the couch, her long arms making the distance negligible. She slipped her phone from her pocket between bites and fired off a quick text to Maura: _We're out of dinosaur chicken nuggets_. She glances down at TJ and decides to attempt being cute. _RAWR!_

They stuffed their faces until every last piece of delectable deliciousness was gone and then TJ lifted himself onto the couch and snuggled into Jane's side. "Thank you, Aunt Jane," he murmured with a yawn as his eyes closed.

"Anytime, kid," she says, kissing the top of his head and turning her attention to baseball highlights.

When Maura steps into the house after being admittedly later than she'd planned, she has to cover her mouth to stop an "Aww" from escaping her lips. Jane and TJ are curled up together on the couch and they're both asleep. She has her arms wrapped around him protectively and a small smile flirting with the corners of her mouth. The doctor takes a photo with her phone and sends the picture to Angela who replies: _My Janie is going to be a great mom._

Maura can't help but laugh. _I don't doubt it._


	11. Violet All the Time

They've just finished dinner and now they're strolling along the streets, the three of them taking up the entire sidewalk. Tommy's just made a joke that has all of them chuckling heartily when Maura freezes in place. The Rizzolis get a couple of steps ahead of her before they notice and then they turn back to her.

Maura grabs a hold of an arm from both Jane and Tommy and pulls them into a building, eyes sparkling with excitement and lips turned upward into a smile.

It's an arcade filled with all the classic games, but Maura's got her eye on one in particular. The most outrageous scam of a game that ever was invented. The Claw Machine. True, this one looks easier than most with all of the prizes concealed within identical plastic balls, but still. This game was _designed_ to steal your hard earned coins.

"Look," Maura breathes, utterly taken in by the old stand-by. The Rizzoli kids trade a glance. "I never played this as a kid because I know it's impossible to win, but I always hoped that one day, someone would decide to ignore all logic and play and win and I'd get to keep the prize as a little souvenir."

Now Tommy and Jane really look at each other, sizing each other up as opponents. Tommy darts forward, the hand in his pocket already pulling out a quarter. Jane tries to cover the coin slot with her hand, but Tommy's closer and his coin slides in just as her fingers brush against the box. He grins in triumph as his fingers slip over the controls.

"You haven't won, yet, Tommy," Jane glares. _Seriously,_ she thinks, _does he not understand the whole I'm-dating-Maura-so-you-literally-have-no-chance thing?_

He smiles and turns to Maura, "I'll win it for you," he promises, loading up the charm. Jane fights the urge to snort louldy. She moves next to Maura as Tommy starts his turn.

"Actually," Jane whispers into Maura's ear, "I'll get it for you." Hidden by their hair, her teeth graze the doctor's ear lobe and she bites down softly, earning a gasp from her friend. She pulls away, smiling cheekily. "My turn after," she informs Tommy as he moves to bring the claw down. He nods and then ignores her, concentration solely on the task at hand. Jane lets out a laugh as the claw misses its intended target and Tommy hangs his head.

Reluctantly, he backs away from the machine and Jane steps up to the plate. She rubs her quarter for extra luck, knowing it will be necessary, and then she's completely absorbed by it. Careful touches here and there, finesse and almost a certain grace attach themselves to the claw's movements through Jane's guidance. She gets it into a position she finds advantageous and then it's time to see if she's calculated correctly. She taps the button and the claw descends.

Maura and Tommy watch her play, the former in captivation at just how sexy the detective looks while she does this, the latter in the hopes that she'll mess it up and he can try once again to win the doctor's affections.

Jane lets out a victorious cry as the claw snatches up a prize and drops it into the slot. She can hear Tommy's disappointed groan, but more importantly, she can feel the increase in energy radiating from Maura. Picking the prize up from the machine, she presents the ball to Maura with a huge grin.

"For you, m'lady." And Maura plucks it out of Jane's grasp. Inside is a mood ring, which the pathologist slips on immediately.

Jane looks over at Tommy, "Guess my quarter was more satisfying than yours, eh?"

"Good work, sis," Tommy says, admitting his defeat. Jane accepts his acquiescence with a smile.

"Thanks, Tommy."

"Oh," Maura says as the ring changed colour to a shade of violet. Jane's eyes widen, her childhood memories kicking in. She knows exactly what violet means and from the glint in her eye, Maura knows, too.

"We better go," Jane says quickly, already gesturing to her brother to leave.

"Something wrong?" He asks. Jane answers before Maura has the chance.

"I forgot to feed Jo, Maura and I gotta leave like right now." The lie is smooth and if Maura even heard it, she doesn't acknowledge it.

"Oh, okay. Well, I'm gonna go meet up with some buddies, then," Tommy says, backing away. "Have a nice night."

They toss goodbyes at his back and watch him until he fades from view before deeming it safe to look each other in the eye.

"I see you know what the violet means," Maura teases, mischief all over her face.

Jane grins. "Means someone needs to come home and have their dirty way with me," she winks and laughs at Maura's over-eager agreement. She kisses Maura lightly on the lips, a promise of what's in store.

"Take me home, Jane."


	12. Sleeping Beauty

Her body shifts on the couch, struggling to find a more comfortable position. She freezes in the midst of a jostle, only just now registering the feel of polyester warmth covering her bare arms. Opening her eyes, she peers down at herself and takes note of the black blazer draped over her chest. A frown appears on her brow, she was only asleep for less than ten minutes. There's no way that Jane was down here, covered her, and left without waking up.

Her arm drops to the ground, searching blindly for her phone. _Well, I'll be_, she thinks as she unlocks the screen. Someone turned off my alarm and programmed my phone for silent. She huffs slightly, miffed that what was meant to be a ten minute power nap was unwillingly transformed into a two hour lounge, but a smile works its way onto her face. Only Jane could get away with something like this.

Quickly, she fires the brunette a text: _I see someone has been fiddling with other people's things._ The response is almost instant: _Afternoon, Sleeping Beauty ;)_ She laughs at the joke as she sits up and pulls the jacket off of her and slips on her shoes before typing out a reply: _You shouldn't have let me sleep. It was sweet, but I should've been working._ The doctor stands just as her office door is unlocked from the outside and someone swaggers in.

Jane closes the door behind her, a teasing grin evident. "You looked so peaceful and adorable when I came to see you earlier that I just couldn't resist."

Maura narrows her eyes slightly at the detective, wanting to be upset, but those darn dimples are flashing right at her and she can't find the heart. Instead, she hands over the jacket and Jane slips it on. "How'd you get a key to my office?" She asks, knowing for certain that she had the only copy.

Jane has the good sense to look abashed and slowly withdraws the keyring from her pocket. _Maura's_ keyring. "I borrowed one?" She says tentatively, unsure as to how the doctor will react. At the time, it had seemed like a great idea, but in hindsight...

Maura simply shakes her head, fighting to keep the smile off her face as she holds her hand out for the keys. Jane slips them into her palm, her fingers brushing against Maura's in a completely-not-meant-to-be-arousing-but-somehow-still-is kind of way. "Maybe you have a point. Perhaps I should get a copy made for you. It only makes sense to have two copies around just in case, and you are probably the most suitable option." She's trying to rationalize it aloud instead of just in her head. It truly did make sense; after all, Jane has keys to her house and her car and vice-versa.

Suddenly Maura becomes aware that the detective is grinning an altogether not innocent smirk and she feels the need to qualify her previous statement. "Jane, if I give you a copy, you can only use it for emergencies and only for the greater good." She stares hard at the detective, driving the point home.

It has the desired effect; the grin is knocked from her face, but only for a moment. "Of course. Besides, an incredibly attractive and intelligent woman once told me that sleep is the body's way of coping with things, stress in particular, and that when your body is craving it, you really should listen..."

Maura is shocked and she's sure that she looks thoroughly taken aback. "You actually listen to me?"

Jane shrugs, "Most of the time, yeah." She lets the silence hang for a moment. "But Doctor Isles, if you're not getting enough sleep at home, maybe you should start wearing more clothes around your fiancée," she winks and departs, heading for the bullpen. Maura rolls her eyes, a habit she's picked up from Jane and mutters under her breath, "Maybe my fiancée should stop talking with that ridiculously sexy rasp of hers."


	13. Languidly in Love

They've been sitting on the nightstand for years, melting into the wood finish with the passing time. Never been lit, they are mere witnesses to every lonely night, waiting patiently in the dark for their time to shine.

It's date night and Maura's due to arrive in five minutes. Jane has been planning this evening ever since she first started entertaining romantic thoughts toward the ME. She has the candles leading toward the bedroom already lit, the flower petals strewn artfully across the floor, and the small stereo playing soft, soft jazz. But there's a wrenching in her gut telling her that she's forgotten something.

A grin jumps to her face as the knock echoes from the doorway. She swings the door open and there's the doctor, resplendent in a short, tight dress and sexy trench coat. They meet in a lingering kiss across the threshold before Jane pulls her into the apartment. Maura gasps at the lengths the detective's gone to, noting the mood and atmosphere, the glasses of wine resting patiently on the counter, and most importantly, the slinky black dress Jane has worn for her. It clung to the law enforcement professional in all the right places and Maura couldn't be more thankful Jane had taken the reins for tonight. She looked absolutely _stunning_.

Maura runs her hands over slim hips and leans in close to lightly nip at Jane's ear. "I think we can skip the wine tonight," she murmurs as they adopt matching sultry smiles. The brunette takes a light grasp of Maura's hand and leads her down the petal walkway.

"Damn," Jane exclaims as they enter her bedroom. It's dark; she neglected to light the candles on her nightstand during her preparations. She darts to the side of her bed after rapidly apologizing to the doctor. The drawer is thrown open and her hands rummage inside for the small book of matches she's kept here for this occasion.

She strikes a match and lights the first candle. In the glow of the resulting flame, she sees the substantial covering of dust atop the wax and can't help but chuckle. She's never had anyone important enough to light these for; not even Gabriel.

Maura is something else. No matter what, that is something Jane has always believed. But more importantly, she is Jane's and Jane is hers. The thought makes Jane a little giddy as the second candle takes the flame. As soon as the first candle was lit, Maura wandered from the doorway, slipping behind her detective.

Jane shivers in response to the surprising feeling of Maura's breath on her neck, her body automatically leaning into the gorgeous woman behind her. She feels the doctor's hands roaming across the fabric of her dress before locating the zipper in the back. They rest lightly just above her butt, those beautiful hands, and then they float upward, barely skimming the surface of the garment. Jane turns to face her just as arms wrap around her neck and then they're kissing as they fall to the mattress, languidly in love.


	14. A Simple Request

"Jane, please! You promised I could choose one thing for us to do tonight!" Maura's voice bordered on a whine, but in all fairness, Jane has been pouting in that adorably sexy way for the past five minutes, ever since Maura very quietly voiced her choice for tonight's activity.

"Yeah, but I meant it in, like, a you can choose to watch a documentary way, not this," Jane explains, exasperation colouring every word. Utterly at a loss, Jane collapses onto the bed and buries her nose in the crook of her elbow.

Maura demurely sits beside her on the duvet and runs a hand across the detective's back in a comforting fashion. "Please Jane? If you don't like it, we can stop and never ever mention it again, I just want to experience this and you're the only one I've ever trusted enough to bother making the request."

Jane lifts her head and meets Maura's earnest gaze. She makes it so hard to say no. "Maura, please don't do this to me. I don't want to hurt you, okay? I couldn't live with myself if I caused you pain."

Maura's resolve wavers just the tiniest bit at the heartfelt plea, but she wants this so bad and she is ninety-nine percent certain that Jane will enjoy it equally as much. "Jane, you're not going to hurt me, okay? I love you. It's just a – a light tap. Nothing serious," she pauses as she realizes that Jane isn't going to fall for this particular direction of persuasion. She shifts tactics, "Please, will you just do this for me?"

The detective lets the smallest of sighs escape through her mouth and Maura grins in victory. "Okay, Maur. For you."

That's all the doctor needs to hear before she's flipping Jane over on the bed and kissing her forcefully, legs moving to straddle the leaner woman's frame. She works at getting Jane entirely worked up and knows she's succeeded when she feels hands grasping and pulling at her hips. She rolls them so that they're both on her sides and then she shifts again onto all fours. Staring over her shoulder at Jane, she can read every ounce of reluctance on those cheekbones.

"Jane, please," she begs, wiggling her butt.

Jane is giving herself a pep talk. It goes against everything in her nature to hit someone on purpose, even if it is with the intent to arouse, but this is Maura and she is begging. _Do it for Maura, Jane. Do it because you love her. Do it because you know you'd rather she did this with you than with any other person._ She shakes her head roughly, the inner war waging inside her mind.

She places her hands on Maura's clothed backside, gently begins to massage the skin and muscles there. A soft groan escapes Maura's lips at the sensuous touch. Jane closes her eyes and places a light, but firm smack on one cheek. The sexually charged moan that reaches Jane's ears cause her eyes to flick open. Maura looks over her shoulder again. "Jane, move the dress, hit me harder, please," she breathes out, her voice taking on a rasp far more characteristic of the detective than the doctor.

Jane's arm reacts faster than her mind, which is preoccupied on the flush she can perceive on Maura's face. The dress is lifted, the smack echoes through the room and then so does Maura's gasp of pleasure. With the way Maura's head is turned, Jane can see the pathologist sexily biting her lip. She smacks the other cheek a couple of times, feeling the pit of desire in her gut being stoked higher with every sexy noise leaving the doctor's vocal chords. She paces them, taking turns on which half of the doctor's perfect ass gets the new treatment.

Maura's skin is stinging, but every single shred of that is threaded straight through to the desire kindling deep within herself. She knows her skin is red from the physical interactions, knows the muscles might ache in the morning, but it's worth it to feel the strength of Jane in this way, to experience it in the role of lover. And it turns her on like nothing else ever has.

She can only take a few more rounds of the detective getting intimate with her posterior before she's scrambling off the bed, ignorant of the throbbing in her rear. She pushes Jane against the nearest wall and starts her assault, simultaneously stripping her of her clothes. Jane's more than ready to assist the good doctor, their hands fumbling on the buttons of her shirt and then on her belt buckle. She steps out of her slacks and then she gropes Maura's back, searching desperately for the zipper.

They fall onto the bed, a tangle of naked limbs and interlocking mouths.

Maura's smile is uncontainable at their frenzied interactions. She exhales heavily against Jane's neck, "Thank you."


	15. The Truth Is

It's a brisk Boston evening, particularly in the chilly atmosphere of the cemetary, but this has become a tradition that cannot be ignored. Once a month, Detective Jane Rizzoli makes a pilgrimage to the site of baby Maura Doyle's resting place. She wrings her hands around the small bouquet of flowers she's carrying as her feet carry her the final few steps to her destination. Out of habit, she scans her surroundings, never off the clock.

Finding no one, she crouches down and lays the flowers gently in front of the stone marker. The bouquet is not only a matter of respect, but also an offering to offset the crippling guilt that has solidified itself within Jane's chest ever since she and Maura discovered the truth about her birth. Because as sad as Jane is for Maura, for the life she was robbed of, for the mother she was taken from, Jane can't help but feel an immense sense of gratitude towards Patrick Doyle. The man did everything he could to protect that baby girl, to protect Maura. She wouldn't be who she is, she wouldn't be Maura if she hadn't been raised by the Isles', if she hadn't been that socially awkward kid in boarding school, or if she hadn't been dubbed "Queen of the Dead". So Jane was happy. Jane was happy that Maura Doyle was dead, though she's too ashamed to admit that.

She sighs softly as her eyes trace the familiar letters of the first name, altogether ignoring the surname. It's a ritual now, one that Maura has no inkling of and if Jane has her way, she never will. When she arrives home tonight, if Maura asks where she went to after work, she won't lie. Maybe she'll say she was paying her respects to a fallen warrior; not entirely untrue. Maura Doyle would have been a warrior, forced into her family business. Possibly not even against her will because she would've been born into it.

The thought gives Jane pause. How different their lives would be if life had gone that way. Jane wouldn't be going home every night to her best friend and partner for life; she'd be returning to an empty bachelor pad. Perhaps she'd even be on the hunt for Maura Doyle.

It's not a pleasant thought. It seems inconceivable, actually, to imagine herself hunting Maura down as a killer. Maura, the pathologist who's almost afraid to work on living patients regardless of her vast spectrum of ability, the woman who cares for a pet tortoise, the murderer? No. Jane shakes her head, hoping to throw the thought physically from her mind. She huffs out of annoyance with herself. _Always gotta bring yourself down, don't you, Rizzoli?_

Abruptly she rises to her feet, finished with this place for the moment. She'll be back in a month's time, but she has the real, live Maura waiting for her at home and she doesn't want to keep her waiting. Walking away, she tosses a last thankful look in the direction of the grave.

The truth is that the death of Maura Doyle gave birth to Maura Isles, and Maura Isles is everything to Jane. Maura Isles is hers.


	16. Rizzoli Roulette

**Warning: Another non-fluffy piece.**

Once again, Jane and Maura find each other undercover, but this time they aren't safely ensconsed in a lesbian bar. No, this time they have had to infilitrate the girl-on-girl prostitution ring, all the while pretending they're not hopelessly in love with one another.

Have you seen the eyes these two make at each other? This battle was lost before it was even begun.

Which explains why both Maura and Jane are zip-tied and gagged on the floor, their cover unmistakably blown. They're back to back and Jane is working on freeing their hands with the small penknife she'd taken to taping to her back. She freed Maura first, just in case they were discovered, so that at least she'd be able to get away. But no one noticed the small movement so she continued to free herself.

Maria Collins stepped into the room, commanding attention as only the boss of an illegal operation can. Her red hair looked like it came from a bottle, cheap and trashy, but the cream pantsuit was top quality and the gun in her manicured hands was a very dear glock.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" Her tone was unarguably amused. "Two lovers, both of them rats." She cast an appraising eye over the detective and doctor. Suddenly she swirled, turning her attention to the small crowd gathering around the two bound women. "How shall we make them pay?"

_Jesus,_ Jane couldn't help thinking, _this chick needs to lay off the rhetorics._

"Randall, take the clip out of your gun, but leave the slug in the chamber." The armed guard did as instructed, tucking the clip onto his belt. "Very good. Lewis, you, too." She paused a beat as the action was completed before issuing further demands, "Now place the two firearms in between the two women as we withdraw behind some bullet proof glass."

The crowd dissipated quickly as the men placed the weapons as told.

"Ladies, we all know you've managed to free yourselves from the bonds you were in. The rules are simple. You take a shot at any of us and you both die. You're going to play a little game for us. One of you can leave here alive. But that person must therefore shoot the other person fatally." She halted her speech to smirk triumphantly at the expressions on the to-be victims' faces. "Remove your gags when you're ready ladies, and let the best woman win."

They reached up almost in unison to remove their respective gags before they turned to face each other. Maura has tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes, but they started to pour as soon as she saw the detective's eyes.

"No Jane, no, don't make me do this, I can't do this to you." She flung her arms around the brunette's neck, steadily ignoring their audience.

"It's okay Maura, I trust you, I love you. You'll get through this, my family will help you through this." She had to pause, the emotion threatening to spill over her carefully held together walls. But she couldn't contain it all, leaning forward and kissing Maura out of pure need. One last time. "Just do it quick, hey Maur?" She tried in vain to bring her Rizzoli-grin to her lips, the perfect accompaniment to her signature joking swagger, but it was a futile endeavour when all she wanted to do was cry.

Maura kept shaking her head, whispering "No" over and over again. Jane had to force the gun into her hands and flick the safety off herself. She stood up, bringing Maura with her, and then she stepped away, giving them distance.

"It's okay, Maur. Hit me with your best shot." And she closed her eyes, hands resting at her sides, chin slightly tilted upward. Her posture was relaxed, she'd make this same choice every single time if it was the choice between Maura living and dying. Maura would always live when Jane had the choice.

Maura's hands were shaky as she raised the barrel from the floor. She could barely see through her watery eyes and her hands wouldn't let her point the gun anywhere near Jane. The detective peeked through her lashes at the doctor who seemed frozen. She focused on the usually clear eyes, they'd turned cloudy and emotional in the stress of the situation. But then suddenly the cloud lifted as Maura found her target, hands steady. Maura mouthed the words "I love you" and then she pulled the trigger.

When the bullet didn't immediately pass through her chest, Jane dove toward Maura, tackling her to the ground and covering the smaller body beneath her own. Fire erupted around them as the stove in the corner of the open floorplan house exploded upon impact with the slug. Jane could feel fiery debris and shrapnel taking their in-flight toll on her back, but she didn't dare move. She stayed there, hovering above Maura until things stopped attacking her skin, and then she lingered a little longer to make sure the doctor was okay.

Jane pushed herself off Maura and then grabbed her hand to sprint for the exit.


	17. Picture Perfect

"_Jane, honey, come on. Smile for the camera," Maura asked quietly as the photographer fiddled with a new lens._

"_I am, Maura!" Jane replied indignantly. In her defence, she really had been trying to smile, but cameras always made her uncomfortable. Maura raised a groomed eyebrow at the detective. "You know cameras make me uncomfortable."_

"_Yes, Jane, I do, but please, please, please smile very nicely, like I know you can, for me?" Maura rested her head against Jane's cheek, taking advantage of the lull in the photoshoot._

"_I'll try harder, okay?" It was really all Jane could promise at this point. Maura beamed and kissed her cheek, leaving her lips to linger longer than necessary, and then they were pulled back into the flow of things._

The pictures had arrived on a CD this morning, but they'd had work and then dinner to get through before they could sit down on the couch with Jane's laptop between them to peruse the footage. Most of it was decent, stills that could be used for anything, but then they opened 'IMG3421' and Maura stopped breathing for a moment.

It was the picture they didn't know had been taken. Directly after Maura's little pep talk, she'd kissed the detective, she remembered that very well. But she couldn't have witnessed Jane's reaction. On the screen, the brunette was looking down at the floor through her lashes, shoulders finally relaxed in the frame as an arm draped behind Maura's neck. It was the smile, though, that had Maura completely breathless. It was wide and showed off teeth, but there was no sarcastic wit behind it, no teasing laced into the muscles. It was the smile of a woman in love and perfectly content with the lovely lady by her side, kissing her cheek.

"Oh, Jane," Maura said softly, turning to face her. "Do you really look like that when I kiss you?" The question was so earnest and unassuming, Jane couldn't bring herself to say something sarcastic. She bit back the "_It's not like I carry a mirror with me, Maur"_ comment, opting for a shrug instead.

"Probably, yeah. You always make me feel calm, like nothing can bother us so long as we're together. And hopefully by now you know that I'm irrevocably in love with you."

Maura gave Jane a large smile, "You look kind of adorable there."

"Aw, Maura! No! You know I'm not adorable!" Jane whined.

"Are too," Maura declared as she hit the print button, sending the photo to the picture printer in the den.

"You're printing it?" Jane was perplexed. "Why?"

"Because this picture has instantly become my favourite photo of us as a couple. As such, it needs to be flaunted in a frame, probably in this living room above the mantel." Maura got up from the couch and leveled such a stare in Jane's direction that the detective knew arguing would be futile.

"Fine," she huffed as the doctor went to retrieve the photo. _As long as it makes her happy_.


	18. Payback

It was a difficult subject to broach and in all honesty (as if Maura could lie) she was very tempted to simply pretend it wasn't there and not say anything at all. It wouldn't count as a lie and she wouldn't get hives, but the looks on Frost's and Korsak's faces would be extremely entertaining... for like the first half a second before Jane figured it out.

Maura sighed though her eyes never stopped admiring the beautiful brunette fogging up the bathroom. No wonder she seemed not to have noticed the very prominent hickey on her neck. She probably couldn't see a single thing in that mirror.

Jane strolled back into the bedroom, towel wrapped around her body, only to find Maura still in bed and staring at her. "Er, hi, Maur," she greeted and when that didn't garner a reaction, the detective paused in front of the closet. "Maur? You okay over there?"

Maura snapped out of an almost dream-like sequence to see Jane looking at her with concern instead of lust, and the towel was still firmly in place instead of slowly being peeled off. She huffed and got out of bed. "I'm fine," she answered as she walked to the bathroom. "But Jane, I suggest you wear a turtleneck to work. I seem to have left a bite mark on your neck."

The bathroom door closed as Jane's jaw dropped. She dashed for the guest bathroom, inspecting her neck in the mirror herself. _Well I'll be damned._

Strutting back into the bedroom, she tossed the towel on the floor by the bathroom door, an idea taking hold in her mind. The door swung open easily and she tip-toed inside without a sound. The shower door always made a noise when it opened, but that was the only heads up Maura was given before Jane had her pressed against the shower wall with lips attacking her neck.

Absolutely no fight was in the doctor who virtually collapsed against the tiles, kept vertical only by Jane's force against her. She got her legs under her just as Jane removed her mouth from the steamy skin. Jane hopped out of the shower, stepping quickly to the door and her towel, but stopped halfway across the threshold. "Hey, Maura? I suggest you wear a turtleneck to work. Somehow, I seem to have left a bite mark on your neck," she smirked and closed the door behind her, humming under her breath.


	19. Costco is a Labyrinth

Maura scanned the crowd of people around her, searching for the familiar wild curls of Jane Rizzoli. No such luck. She pulled her phone out and fired off a text: _I'm lost. Where are you?_ The reply was almost immediate: _In the beer aisle._ She looked around again, this time searching for anything resembling a collection of alcohol. Again, the search was fruitless. _Where is that? Costco is a labyrinth._ And it was. She'd been walking around the huge store for at least ten minutes in search of the detective with no success. Her phone buzzed with the response: _Just walk to the center. It's the most important part of the store._

Stifling a giggle at Jane's description, she moved toward what she deduced was the center of the warehouse. The beer was found, but no hint of the detective anywhere in sight. She sighed and tapped out another text: _I don't see you._

Jane chuckled at Maura's attempt to find her. _Well now I'm over by tampons._ And it was true, she grabbed a package before moving on. She'd been about to go find her wife, but then she was distracted by her phone again. _Jane, we have an entire list and all you're carrying around with you is beer and tampons? It's not even 10 a.m. yet._ Jane was halfway through her response of _Priorities, Maura, priorities_ when she spotted the display shelf. _BAGEL BITES ARE ON SALE. I'm grabbing ten._

Maura was perplexed. Jane had beer, tampons, and now bagel bites. How was that possible? _Jane, how are you even carrying all this?_ Then she thought of a better question: _While texting me?_ The response took a little longer than the others had. _Really? Have you seen my arm span? Like a pterodactyl with groceries over here._ She couldn't help but laugh at that. _And where exactly is 'here'?_

Jane stopped at the end of an aisle, deciding to actually stop and wait for her wife. She couldn't carry much more by herself after all. _Produce. I'll even wait here for you ;)_


	20. Don't Wake Me Up

Precise fingers are curled around her imperfect hand as they sway to the music of their first dance.

They're married.

They're _married._

It's too beautiful, there's no way it really happened. There is no way this gorgeous, perfect woman walked down the aisle to become her wife today. It seems like a dream, the beautiful kind of reverie you wish you'll never wake from. Professionally coiffed hair is tickling her chin as Maura's face buries itself into Jane's neck.

She places her cheek against the softness of Maura's gentle waves and angles her head to stare at their intertwined hands. Mesmerizing is the only way to describe the sight of the ring on her finger, the touch of Maura's ring on her shoulder. The soft lighting in the ballroom casts silhouettes against the walls, but more importantly, it makes it seem as though flames are dancing along the white-gold band she'll forever treasure.

It's a new thing for her, wearing a ring or any type of jewelry, but the added weight is comforting in a way Jane hadn't expected. She'd thought that it would take time to get used to it, that she'd end up sliding it along her finger all night in an attempt to feel more comfortable with it on, but this wasn't the case. Maybe it was a sign she was finally doing something right, something that she was supposed to do; like marrying Maura is the thing she was made for.

Jane is more than okay with that.

She tilts her head downward slightly, so her lips are right next to the doctor's ear, "If this is a dream, please don't ever wake me up."


	21. Exhaustion

Jane half-carries, half-escorts Maura into the house, hopping to kick the door closed behind her. She sets the exhausted doctor on the couch and removes her boots before kneeling down to slip off Maura's shoes. "Only a hundred and sixteen pounds, eh Maur?" she mutters under her breath with a smile before scooping the semi-conscious doctor into her arms and carrying her to her bedroom.

"Point eight," Maura mumbles, shifting slightly in Jane's hold as they start up the stairs and Jane chuckles.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" and Maura only buries her nose in Jane's neck in reply. She places the doctor lightly on her feet for a moment, still maintaining the majority of her weight as she pulls back the covers on the bed before placing Maura on the crisp sheets.

"Need... change," she sighs out softly, missing a word due to her fatigue.

"Okay, Maur, I'm going to take off your dress, don't freak out," Jane warns her as she softly rolls the doctor on her side to access the zipper in the back. The dress comes off fairly easily with Jane pulling the fabric down her stomach, hips, and legs, and Jane is thankful. She almost tosses it in the general direction of Maura's closet before imagining the glare she'd be likely to receive in the morning for such an act. Instead she folds it somewhat neatly and puts in on the chair before digging around in Maura's drawers for some normal sleepwear.

"Bra," Maura murmurs from the bed, arms moving at a glacial pace to try and do it herself. Jane shakes her head as she walks back to the bed, a pair of her own shorts and a tank top in hand. She slips her slender fingers under Maura's back to release the clasp and slips the straps off her arms, but doesn't move the cups from their place covering her friend's assets. Gingerly, she slips the tank top over Maura's head and across her chest to her waist. Now she removes the bra and then she works on slipping the shorts up Maura's legs and under her butt.

"Hair," Maura offers, almost in a hum and Jane acquiesces to the one-word demand, moving to the bathroom for a comb. She pauses to consider how best to go about this with the doctor three-quarters asleep already. First things first, she slips the covers back over Maura's frame and the ghost of a smile flits across Maura's face. "Stay," she breathes, so Jane climbs onto the bed beside her. Maura almost immediately tries to get closer to the detective, tilting her head and managing to move her arms a little, but she's fading fast.

Jane's not oblivious for once, though, and so she scoots closer to the medical examiner. Maura leans her head against Jane's chest before asking again about her hair. Jane nods although Maura can't see it and softly starts to part the tresses with the comb. Her strokes are even and light, barely touching the scalp. Tangles are non-existent; after all, this is Maura, but Jane continues the gesture, far past the moment when Maura fell asleep after a barely there "Thank you, Jane."

Maura's breathing has been even for the past fifteen minutes and her hair's combed, but though Jane places the comb on the nightstand, she doesn't move. She doesn't extricate herself from her position. She simply places a feathery kiss on Maura's head and settles herself in for sleep.


	22. Anema E Core

"Jane, come on, it's your turn!" Maura leaned back slightly on her bar stool, smiling brightly at the detective.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. That is so not happening," Jane shook her head vehemently. "You wanted to come to a karaoke bar, sure, yeah, fine. But we definitely did not agree on me having to contribute to the mounting levels of embarrassment."

Maura shot her a playful glare, "What else did you plan on doing here? It's a karaoke bar, I would have thought a great detective such as yourself would be able to figure out why you were being taken here."

Jane's mouth dropped open, "Maur, did you just make a joke?"

The grin froze on Maura's face. "Only if it was funny..." she trailed off, uncertain. Jane laughed and slapped her lightly on the shoulder.

"It was good; you're getting better." Jane smirked.

"Excellent, so you'll go up then?" Maura asked, attempting a sly bargain. Jane nearly spit out her gulp of beer.

"No!" Jane exclaimed adamantly.

"What if we trade?" Maura offered, uncrossing and recrossing her legs while staring at Jane.

"What are we trading?" she asked, intrigued.

"You've always wanted to get me drunk... if you sing a song, you can take me either to your apartment or my house and get me absolutely-" she paused, trying to think of the appropriate word, "-sloshed?"

Jane's face lit up at the suggestion. "You're on, Doc." She hopped up from her stool and strolled to the bar quickly, getting two shots, and walking back to their table. "Cheers, Maur," she said and in unison they tossed back the liquor. Maura made a face that made Jane chuckle. "You won't have to have whiskey for the rest of the night. It's just tradition that the first hard shot has to be whiskey. And you didn't even have hardcore whiskey. I got you one that was mixed with honey." Jane laughed lightly.

"Oh. Thanks, Jane," Maura smiled brightly at being included in a tradition. "Now stop stalling and go!"

Jane held up her hands in mock surrender as she walked away to talk to the guy in charge of the karaoke machine. They chatted for a brief moment and Jane pointed to something on his screen before he gestured for her to wait by the make-shift platform stage which was currently occupied by a very drunk couple.

She took a brief moment to second-guess her song choice, to second-guess the huge choice she'd made tonight, but with a deep breath she steadied herself. This was a long time coming. She'd heard the evidence from others, thought she'd witnessed certain things herself; it seemed like an open and shut case.

_No turning back_, she assured herself and then the couple departed the stage. The guy by the computer gave her a nod and she jumped on stage, shyly lifting the microphone from the stand. In hindsight, this song might be a little too slow for the bar, but Jane talked herself into believing that no one was really paying attention to her anyway; no one knew her here, they'd be too absorbed in their own conversations. The music intro ticked by as she talked herself into going through with it.

"I've got a yearning to caress you. One thought keeps burning in my soul. A hungry yearning to possess you is far beyond my control. I want your love for now, forever. I want your heart and soul." She licked her lips unconsciously, letting her gaze flick over to Maura near the back. She couldn't decipher the look on the medical examiner's face and quickly steered her eyes elsewhere.

"My life I give to you, anema e core. I only live for you, anema e core." Now was the tricky part for Jane. "Forse sarrà ca 'o chianto è doce, forse sarrà ca bene fa. Quanno mme sento cchiù felice, nun è felicità. Specie si è vote tu mme dice, distratta, 'a verità."

Maura felt her jaw drop when Jane seamlessly transitioned into Italian. Aside from a few stray words, most of which were most likely curses, she'd never heard the detective speak a foreign language. And she'd most certainly never dreamed she could sing in Italian. Her low, husky voice was almost made for this song somehow. Maura knew both the English and Italian versions of the song, knew that the switch into Italian was entirely Jane. She felt herself getting a little warm under the collar and was well aware that it had less to do with the actual temperature and more to do with the bombshell on stage.

"Stu desiderio 'e te mme fa paura, campà cu te, sempre cu te, pe nun murì. Che ce dicimmo a fa parole amare, si 'o bbene pò campà cu nu respiro? Si smanie pure tu pe' christ'ammore, tenimmoce accussì, anema e core! Tenimmoce accussì, anema e core." Jane finished the song and only then did she feel confident enough to look straight at Maura. The doctor returned her unflinching stare.

Maura was vaguely aware of the applause surrounding her at Jane's performance, regardless of the fact that the detective hadn't really moved from her starting spot on the stage. It occurred to her all of a sudden, why they called it eye contact.

Jane mutely stepped down from the stage and navigated the maze of a crowd with ease to get back to their table.

"So..." Jane started, unsure of what to say next, wondering if Maura had in fact picked up on the subtext; a skill the medical examiner had been improving as of late.

Maura's very methodical and rational brain was working very hard at the moment. She evaluated the song choice and various behavioural patterns throughout their friendship.

Jane lightly shook her friend's shoulders. "Maur? You still with me?"

Making her final deductions, refusing to guess even now, she nodded and leaned in so that her mouth was right next to Jane's ear.

Jane could feel her breath against her lobe and promptly stopped breathing.

"Take me home, Jane. You can get me drunk tomorrow."

**[Song used is Anema E Core. The actual song isn't half and half, but Jane made it that way, so there. Also, I am not fluent in Italian (sadly) so I got the lyrics off the internet. I cannot guarantee that they are correct/sensical/spelled right. If you happen to speak Italian and know the words are incorrect, please let me know.]**


	23. In the Line of Fire

_I won't make it,_ is Jane's first thought as she explodes into the abandoned warehouse only to see a gun pointed at Maura. Time seems to slow and her eyes rake over Maura's frozen figure first, but the feeling of relief that the doctor isn't injured is fleeting at best. She moves her head to focus on the threat instead. It's there, in the set of his jaw and the strength of his arm that he's going to shoot. He's going to shoot her. And Jane isn't close enough to tackle either of them to the ground.

She dives in front of Maura just as the gunman squeezes the trigger, arms wide open to take the bullet, but her eyes close. She doesn't want to see it happen; she just wants to get it over with. Except there's no tell-tale sound of gunpowder exploding in the chamber, there's no acrid after-smell, there's just... nothing. She hits the cement floor hard on her side, jarring her shoulder, and gets the wind knocked out of her. Her head snaps against the ground; there'll be a very decently-sized goose egg there in the coming days.

Instead, Jane hears a thunk and opens her eyes to see Frost on top of their perp, both of them crashing to the floor.

The sound of the two men going down snaps Maura out of her frightened trance. She darts to Jane's side. Automatically, her brain is making her ask Jane questions about any injuries, making her compartmentalize to allow herself to breathe. All that's passing through Maura's mind is: _Jane, you almost died_.

Jane rolls onto her back to get a good look at the medical examiner who hasn't stopped rambling medical nonsense at her since she knelt down beside her. Their gazes lock and even though she knows that Maura's in the midst of removing her emotions from the scenario, she can see the ghosts of tears and the look in her eye that says _You would have literally just died for me._ And she knows that her own eyes are conveying the only truthful response she has: _I'd do it again, too._

Meanwhile, Frost has the guy in cuffs and is leading him out to the just-arrived back up. He hands him over to an officer, charging him with bringing the suspect back to headquarters, and then he marches back inside to check on Jane. He honestly doesn't know what he was expecting Jane to do when they arrived, but diving in front of a gun to take a bullet meant for Maura is definitely not on that list. _Although,_ he ponders offhandedly, _knowing those two the way I do, it probably _should _have been_.

He strolls over to the gun lying almost-forgotten on the ground and picks it up. He checks the chamber and the clip, letting out a hearty chuckle which captures the attention of Jane and Maura.

"What's so funny Frost?" Jane asks, attempting to sit up despite Maura's hands pushing her shoulders down.

"Dude ran out of bullets."


	24. Stars

Jane,

I know how you are about the discussion of anything resembling emotions, so I thought I'd spare you a conversation. I wish I could spare you this letter, too, but I'm not strong enough for that, it seems. I can't keep it in any longer.

Science is something I've always been able to grasp; figures and facts are constant and unchanging, which is the way I've always desired my life to run. At least, that's how I felt until I met you. Somehow, you've managed to change me in so many ways. Jane, you've made me a better person.

The first time I truly got to interact with you outside of your undercover persona, I was amazed. You were willing to spend time with me and you didn't let my unusual tendencies and quirks put distance between us. Instead, you put us on the path toward best friendship and I couldn't be more grateful.

Did you know that there are billions of stars in the galaxy? The number may seem overwhelming, but it's true. Unfortunately, you can only ever see approximately two and a half thousand with the naked eye. The first time you opened up to me, I thought of stars. I thought of how you were one, shining resplendently in the evening sky, and how I wanted to be one... How I wanted you to see me as one.

Those thoughts haven't left my mind since. I don't know if you see me as a star, Jane. I don't think you do. I'm just a medical examiner with a pet tortoise and a love for etymology. I'm a naive introvert; all book smart and not street smart. People are puzzles I have yet to figure out, but I seem to understand you and you definitely understand me. You comprehend me in ways no one else ever has; more than my parents, more than Ian.

You've heard me say "I love you" in various contexts and situations, but I meant them all in the same way: Jane Clementine Rizzoli, I am _in_ love with you.

I know how you feel about your sexuality. Please know that I'm not sharing this information simply to make your life harder. I just thought you deserved to know so that you could be assured that I will always be there for you. I won't waver about anything to do with you. I'm in love with you and always will be.

You can pretend you never received and read this letter, if that's what you want. My goal is not to lose you, I don't care what it takes. As a friend, as a best friend, I can't lose you; it would destroy me. And even though it's selfish, I hope that it would destroy a tiny little piece of you, too.

Do what you will with the information you have at your disposal.

All my love,

Maura, your LLBFF.


	25. Galaxy

Alright. This is a ficlet series, but the reviews and messages concerning Chapter 24 "Stars" have been overwhelming. For the first time ever, I present to you a Rizzles Ficlets Sequel.  
Enjoy!

* * *

Maura,

You know I'm not very good with words and I'm not the type of person who can string my thoughts together to form beautiful, coherent sentences. So I just want to apologize for my lack of skill with prose as a sort of prelude into my response.

I won't lie to you, Maur: I didn't see this coming. I should probably also apologize for somewhat avoiding you these past couple of days, but I needed to try and think and sort myself out away from you and your unique ability to distract me.

I don't want to mess this up.

I'm going to take my time with this, I hope you don't mind.

First off, Maura Dorothea Isles, how dare you sell yourself so short. If I'm a star, then you're a supernova. You're beautiful and you radiate a soft kindness. When you're in the midst of a passionate rant, you get this fire in your eyes and your hands get wild with gestures and you just care so much, Maur. You care so much and you do so much, yet you never expect anything out of it. You are as close to perfection as any one human being can get. So if I'm a star, I'm off in a long-forgotten area of the universe and you are centre-stage, commanding the spotlight you deserve.

But I don't see you as a star, Maur. That's too plain a description for you; it's not nearly enough. You're a whole new galaxy, bursting with life and promise and potential, drawing everyone's eyes to you. How could anyone see you as less than something intoxicating and precious?

I need you. You're completely right when you wrote that I don't deal with emotional discussion well (of course... when are you wrong?). You talk about me understanding you, but the true feat of character is yours because somehow, you understand me. I love you for that. I need you for that. Before I met you, I was seen in one-dimension. I was simply the badass cop and though I still have that aspect of my persona, thanks to you, I am also so much more. Because of you, your touch and your presence, I have learned that I don't have to be alone anymore. I don't have to hide anymore; not everyone is out to hurt me or use me.

I love you for what you do to me. The butterflies took a while to get used to, but they've never fully gone away. When you're close to me, I can feel my heart beat louder and deeper than ever before, steadily reinforcing just how much I love you.

And I don't mean it in the platonic sense. Maura Isles, I am in love with you, too. I just couldn't bring myself to jeopardize what we have: an amazing friendship that I couldn't live without. But Maur, if you're willing to jump into this, I'm more than willing to jump in with you because I love you, Maura Isles, and I will follow you anywhere.

By the way, I hear you have a date tomorrow night. I'll pick you up at 7:00 sharp and wear anything you like; you always look perfect.

Your LLBFF (though I vote we change it from Life-Long to Lesbian-Lover Best Friends Forever :P)

Jane


	26. Surprise

Life is full of surprises: you turn out to be adopted, your biological father's in the Irish mob, your badass girlfriend secretly prefers to be the little spoon when you cuddle...

Yeah, Maura definitely didn't see any of those coming, especially the last one. But it was true and Maura loved it. She loved being able to see the sides of Jane she normally kept hidden deep beneath layers of rapier wit. Jane was a protector so it was absolutely amazing and revealing that she, Maura, was being entrusted with her safety.

The first time the situation cropped up, about two weeks into their officially romantic relationship, Maura was flabbergasted. She knew that they were very trusting and open with each other, but being able to acknowledge proof of that was exhilarating. They'd curled up in bed after some very satisfying, non-PG activities; Maura had been fully expecting to feel Jane's arms wrap around her waist for the afterglow cuddle experience.

So when the detective's slim fingers wrapped around her hands to pull them around her own middle while muttering a "Don't say a word" Maura could barely hear, the doctor's grin was wider than the day she aced her doctor's exam.

Jane's lying in bed by the time Maura emerges from the bathroom, still deep in thought. She slides under the covers and presses herself flush against Jane's back while wrapping her arms around the lanky woman. "Love you, Maur," Jane says and Maura can hear the smile on her lips.

Maura places a kiss on Jane's shoulder and squeezes the detective's beautiful hands. "Love you, too."


	27. Victor 825

Jane waltzes through the door only to be immediately assaulted with the smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen. She spots her Ma in there cooking dinner, but before she can ask any questions, Angela's seen her and starts rambling.

"Jane dear, excellent, I'm glad you're home. Now, I know you and Maura have been away from each other for almost a week, so I don't plan on lingering, but I did hear from a little birdy that you would be late coming home from work tonight. So I thought I'd make dinner for you two so you could enjoy a nice, relaxing evening at home. Lasagna's in the oven, there's a salad in the fridge, and don't forget to feed Bass!"

Jane blinks at the overload of information and then stares after her mother as she leaves through the back door toward the guest house. _What just happened?_

She wanders over to the fridge and pulls out some choice morsels for the tortoise. Then she slips a bottle of wine from the rack on the counter and opens it, retrieving a glass, and pours a drink for Maura. Just as she opens the fridge again, this time for a beer, she hears the door open and the tell-tale clack of high heels on hardwood.

"Hey Maur, looks like we've got dinner all-" but Jane is cut off by the feeling of Maura's arms wrapping around her waist and her hands turning Jane to face her. Maura's face was absolutely glowing with a thousand-Watt smile overtaking her face.

"Come on, I have something I really want to show you!" Maura exclaims happily, gripping Jane's hand and leading her away. The detective had barely enough time to shut off the oven before she was dragged toward their bedroom.

"Maura, what do you want to show me?" Jane asks as Maura motions for her to sit on the bed. The doctor lets out a noise almost akin to a giggle and Jane is slack-jawed at the musical sound. And then Jane is breathless as Maura begins to shimmy out of her dress. She places it on a chair and then she almost shoves her hip into Jane's face.

Jane's heart skips a beat because right there in front of her, on her doctor's perfect hip, is a newly applied tattoo which reads, "V825".

"Maur, you got a tattoo?" She is thoroughly astounded. "You got a tattoo of my call sign?"

Maura blushes and starts to move her hip from Jane's view, but slender hands on her waist stop her. Jane stands and lightly brushes her fingers against the mostly healed skin. She presses her body against Maura's and moves those luscious locks to one side before firmly attaching her lips to her neck.

Jane's lips ghost by Maura's ear, "Do you have any idea how intensely sexy I find this?"

Maura closes her eyes as those lips resume their tantalizing assault on her neck. "Maybe you could show me."

And Jane does... several times. They end up having lasagna for breakfast.


	28. My Mistake

The quick shattering of the windows was the only warning the Rizzoli family had of the incoming assault. Flash-bangs went off, stealing sight and sound from all members present. Maura's hand was ripped from it's place in Jane's and an unfamiliar fabric scratched across her arm. She fought for her vision, seeing it swim with the wavy scene of Maura being dragged away by two men dressed all in black.

She screamed, not that she could hear her own voice. The figures didn't acknowledge her or seem to care that she'd regained her balance enough to give chase. She watched as they tossed the medical examiner in the back of a white van and managed to get half a plate number before the vehicle was out of sight.

In seconds, she'd dialed her partner: "Frost, I can't hear anything. We're at the church for TJ's christening and someone sent in flash-bangs before kidnapping Maura. I need you to run the partial plate of L8G; you're looking for a white van, probably early 2000s. Also, please put a trace on Maura's cell. I assume you'll inform Korsak and I expect to see one or both of you here within twenty." She paused, fighting the anxiety accumulating in her stomach. "Please, Frost." And then she hung up.

She ran back inside and grouped her family together, trying to mime out that help was on the way. TJ would need to be looked at by medical staff; his ears and eyes were more sensitive than anyone else's.

Ten minutes later, Frost was striding through the door, two paramedics following closely. Jane went to meet him, quickly informing him that she could mostly hear out of one ear. He filled her in on the basics as her family was checked out one at a time behind them.

"Van was reported stolen two days ago in Cambridge, I have a couple of uniforms going to see if the owner has any information for us, but it's doubtful. Also, the kidnappers are smart. I can't get a lock on Maura's phone, indicating that they have probably both turned it off and dumped it somewhere as an extra precaution." He paused. "Jane, should we get you home to wait for a ransom call?"

Jane let out a shaky breath and shook her head. All of a sudden she looked embarrassed. "Jane, what is it?"

She gulped, "Frost, I uh, I have one fall-back plan we can try first. I've never had to use it and Maura doesn't know it exists so I may very well be dead when we find her, but..." she trailed off and pulled out her phone. She found what she wanted and showed him the screen. "Can you trace this signal?"

Frost eyed the code warily. "I should be able to, depending on where it's coming from, but Jane, what'd you do?"

The guilty look on her face said it all, but as they moved to his car she explained anyway. "I may or may not have placed a GPS tracking chip in Maura's crown..."

Frost whistled as they tore away from the church, "You're right. She's definitely going to kill you."

* * *

Her hands are tied together behind her back and her legs are attached to the chair legs with duct tape. Her sight is non-existant thanks to a blindfold covering her eyes, but other than that her body appears to be fine. Maybe her head's still a little fuzzy from the chloroform they used earlier.

"So, Rizzoli, I know you're awake," a deep voice with an Irish lilt says as he walked around her, steps echoing in the silence. _Rizzoli?_ Maura was confused. She wasn't a Rizzoli; they weren't even engaged yet. "I need you to listen real well, you stupid cop. You're messing with a very important person's daughter and he doesn't take lightly to any sort of harm befalling his family."

Maura gasps. "Doyle is behind this?" The man laughs.

"Shit, Detective, Doyle told us you were bright!" his tone's indicating that he thinks the exact opposite.

"Whomever you are, I assure you that I have no ill intentions toward Doctor Isles," she says, playing the part of Jane.

"My job is to make sure that you never get the opportunity to harbour those thoughts. Ever." the man's voice has turned sinister. "Here's what you're going to do, Rizzoli. You're going to break up with your girlfriend and in exchange, we won't rough up your Ma or your brothers or your partner. You let her get on with her life and you'll never see us in yours again." The words are low, whispered right into Maura's ear. She shifts in her seat. She opens her mouth to respond, but it dies on her lips as new sounds assail her ears. The thudding of heavy feet and finally:

"Boston PD, everyone on the ground now!" The voice is unmistakable. Maura clears her throat.

"Jane?" she calls out, hopefully. And then she hears grunts of pain and feels gentle fingers pawing away at the rope around her wrists before picking away the tape at her ankles. Once her hands are free she removes her blindfold and throws her arms around her detective. Jane frees her other leg before returning the embrace.

"What? You mean that's not Rizzoli in the chair?" the words are muffled against the ground, but they're said in the same voice as the guy who'd chatted to Maura earlier. Currently, Frost has his knee in the man's back.

"You're an idiot you know that," Frost says as he pulls out the cuffs. "You had Doctor Isles the whole time. How'd you pull such a bonehead mistake?" He attaches the bracelets and then hands him off to a uniform.

"But – she looks more like Angela Rizzoli!" and that's the last peep they hear from him as he's ducked into a squad car.

Frost appraises Jane and Maura from a distance and can't help agreeing. Maura does look more like Mama Rizzoli than Jane does.

Jane and Maura are caught up in making sure the other is perfectly sound and alive and Jane's relief is apparent through her mannerisms. But she tenses right up when Maura asks her how they found her.

"Now, Maur, you can't be too mad at me alright?" Jane starts and right away Maura knows she's definitely not going to like whatever comes out of her detective's mouth next. Jane rubs her palms a couple of times, refusing to meet Maura's gaze as she says, "It's possible that, being the concerned girlfriend and best friend that I am, I may have gotten a GPS tracking dot installed into your crown the last time you went to the dentist..." she lets the sentence trail off into silence, waiting for the worst.

Maura has to take a second before she can respond. "Jane Clementine Rizzoli. Honestly, I don't know whether to kiss you or slap you right now. That is entirely sly and underhanded, as well as being completely ridiculous!" she pauses in her rant at the embarrassed, repentent Jane in front of her. She sighs and the fight washes out of her entirely. "But if you hadn't I don't think you'd have found me. So why don't we just call it even."

Jane can't believe what she's hearing, but rather than give the doctor time to change her mind, she plants a chaste, yet firm kiss to Maura's lips. "Come on, Maur, we should get out of here," she says, escorting the medical examiner to her unmarked. "We'll have to talk to Doyle and get this mess sorted out, but as he's still in the hospital, I think it can wait until tomorrow." Dropping her voice, she leans down to whisper in her ear, "Right now I think I should get you home and thoroughly inspect your person for trauma."

A shiver rocks up Maura's spine. "I couldn't think of a better plan myself, Detective."


	29. I Want to Lick Your Face

Jane shudders with disgust at the thought of Giovanni getting into bed with her and Maura. No. Just – no. How that guy ever gets laid is beyond Jane, but she fears any explanation does not put her sex in the greatest of light.

"Jane, you need to relax. You always get uptight after an encounter with G." Maura can read her like a book, but she can't help herself. She gets defensive around the gorgeous doctor. She feels Maura stroke her arm and instantly she starts to calm.

"Hey, Maur," she says and then pauses to let a smirk light up her whole face. She takes on Giovanni's little accent and waggles her eyebrows, "I want to get you naked and lick your face." She does her best to say it as seriously as possible, but she can't stop the cheeky smile from appearing.

Maura gives Jane the once-over, brow furrowing in thought. "You know, coming from you that doesn't sound so bad." A predatory look floats into the doctor's eyes as she looks the detective over once more, this time lingering in places and Jane swears that just her _gaze_ is making her hot under the collar. _Two can play at this_, she decides and bends down to whisper in the medical examiner's ear.

"As much as I'd love to get you home and have my wicked way with you, I can't." She pulls away just far enough to see Maura's pout. "See, I've got this woman I'm really attached to, and she's dragging me around to go shopping today. I wish I could get out of it, but-" she's cut off by Maura's earnest lips staking a claim on her own. They're both a little out of breath by the time Maura pulls away.

"I think that if you show this woman how much you love her, she'd be more than willing to let you off the hook for shopping."

Jane grins. "I think I can do that."


	30. Let's Have a Little Heart to Heart

Maura is sobbing. Maura is sobbing and Jane doesn't know why or what she can do about it. Okay, so yes, she'd gotten a tiny bit injured at work today, but the bullet _barely_ grazed her shoulder. It was a superficial wound at best and definitely did not require this amount of emotional damage.

The doctor is leaning against her counter, head resting on the cabinet with her arms wrapped around herself, and the tears just don't seem to stop. Jane moves closer to her and hesitantly places her arm around Maura's shoulders.

Jane doesn't do well with crying.

"Maura, I'm sorry I got hurt, okay? I'll try harder -" but she cuts off at the sudden movement of Maura whirling around.

"Don't you dare, Jane Clementine Rizzoli! Don't you _fucking_ dare!" The doctor spits out the words, eyes ablaze. Jane freezes in place from the tone of voice, but mostly from the swear. Maura jabs her with a finger, "You keep getting hurt because of me, okay, and I won't let it happen any longer." She leaves Jane in the kitchen, stomping toward the door.

In the seconds it takes Jane to figure out that Maura is in fact blaming herself _and_ leaving, she's sprinting for the door, pressing her body against it so Maura can't escape.

Maura slaps at Jane's shoulders to get her to move and then she's not slapping, she's just hitting the detective over and over again across the abdomen. She's not inflicting damage, but the tears are coming harder than ever and Jane just wraps her arms around the doctor, taking the abuse.

"Let me leave, Jane," she begs as she writhes in Jane's arms.

"Never," Jane promises and then the fight flies from the pathologist and her knees give out. Together they sink to the floor, Jane cradling Maura in her arms. "Honey, it's not your fault-" but that's as far as she gets before words are spurting from Maura's mouth.

"But it _is_ my fault, Jane! If I wasn't Doyle's daughter, you wouldn't be kidnapped and tortured and put in harm's way over and over again. If I was just strong enough to walk away from you, maybe you'd be able to walk away without as many war wounds. Maybe you'd be able to have a life with someone who deserves you." Maura shakes her head and wipes away the last of her tears. "No, Jane. This is entirely my fault because of who I am. And I won't let you suffer for it any more." She struggles to be free of the detective's arms again, but they aren't letting go.

Jane is stunned; shocked, even. There's no other way to describe it. "Maur." She can tell the doctor is about to interrupt. She places a finger over her lips and then tilts her chin so their eyes are forced to meet. "Maura Dorothea Isles. This is not your fault. You are not Doyle's daughter. You are an Isles, always have been. And I would be in every single situation you've seen me in no matter what. Because I am a cop, Maur, and this is what I do. I get put into difficult situations and then I have to get out of them." Jane places a light kiss to her hair. "You make me want to get out of those situations. You're passionate and loving and so endearing, Maur. You make everyone fall in love with you a little more every day. Your smile makes me feel like I can do anything. And yes, you're a genius and you're brilliant and I love that you can tell me at least a hundred different facts about ancient Mesopotamia."

Maura snuffles before quietly murmuring, "Only a hundred and thirteen." Jane can't help the breathless laugh that escapes her lips.

"Maura, you are amazing. You're my best friend and my girlfriend and, quite frankly, you're my soul mate. Okay? I see us growing old together. I see you and me with rings and love for the rest of our days. I see that with you, no one else. You are so unique and so special, Maur. You just need to realize that you deserve so much more; you deserve everything. And I wish I could give it to you, but I can't. All I can do is vow that I will love you with all of my heart, no matter what, until the day that they put me in the ground."

Maura can't look away from the earnest expression on Jane's face. _She truly means every word_, the doctor realizes with a start. "Jane." She sees her open her mouth to interrupt and now it's her turn to silence her partner. "Jane, being with me shouldn't mean you have to be constantly injured and in the hospital."

In true Rizzoli style, Jane shrugs it off. "Maur, when are you finally going to believe me? All the stuff with Hoyt, with Doyle, with Bianchi... I survived all of that and then I got to come home to you."

The tears may have stopped five minutes earlier, but now they're back with a vengeance. With a content sigh, Jane leans down to nestle into Maura's neck.

"You're worth everything I've been through."


	31. Magic

The Boston Public Library is paradise. Rooms full of shelves overflowing with near limitless knowledge. Peace and quiet for the furthering of intellect; individual spaces at long tables with green lamps for the scholarly.

Yeah, Maura can buy copies of almost all the books in the stacks and she can purchase tables and lamps just like the ones in the main study area, but it's not about that; it's about the feeling. It's about being able to breathe in the knowledge and the atmosphere.

Not that she's doing that now. Right now, she's trying hard not to hyperventilate as a certain dark-haired detective leads her into a small room (which she's never even seen, let alone entered) off the beaten track for their first date.

Their first date. The words kind of roll off your tongue, don't they? Like they're perfect? Yes. Maura thinks so, too.

There's a small table and two chairs, lit by the romantic glow of two candles. Jane is lightly pushing against Maura's back to force her to enter the room fully and she gasps as her eyes grow accustomed to the lighting.

The walls are murals, most likely dating back to the construction of the building itself.

They are beautiful. Painted with care and intricacy, these were the revered pieces; these were the ones seen only by a select few.

She's overcome with emotion and she doesn't know how Jane has pulled this off. For an inquisitive mind, she's strangely okay with not knowing, with letting the magic do its share.

Jane pulls her chair out for her and she smiles in thanks. From underneath the table, the detective brings out an appetizing array of foods.

They don't say much as they dig in; they've been talking about cases and victims all day and now they're content to simply soak up each other's company. Their fingers brush occasionally as they nibble away at the delectable morsels and Jane pours wine for both of them.

Maura isn't surprised when the wine is both delicious and paired enticingly well with their meal; she'd noticed the detective thoroughly studying her collection of vino last night.

They lounge in the quiet, the company, until the candles are burning low in their holders. Jane suggests a walk around the historical site to draw their evening to a close. Maura readily agrees. They hold hands as they wander together through hallways and high-ceiling rooms. She shares factoids and tidbits as they meander and the small smile she can see Jane sporting as she spouts these off is enough to tell her that Jane really does enjoy her company.

When they enter the courtyard, Maura's breath hitches. Not quite in the middle, just off to the side, is a modest square of flat ground with a lantern aglow that isn't BPL-sanctioned. Jane leads her to that very spot and then takes her in her arms.

They dance. They spin and hold each other close, rocking to music in Jane's mind. Maura leans her head against Jane's chin and their movements slow.

"Let's take you home, sweet girl," she hears in her ear. She flushes happily at the nickname, the way Jane's voice has a softer rasp to it than usual as it caresses the endearment.

They float on their cloud until they pull up at Maura's, but the descent back to reality isn't as long as you'd think. On her doorstep, Maura fiddles with her keys and Jane takes the hint. Pulling Maura softly against her, Jane's lips attach to the medical examiners softly. Their kiss is chaste, but lingering, and Maura's stomach is doing giddy somersaults as Jane blushes and walks away.

Maura waves to Jane as she steps into her house. The detective's car is on and running, but it is only once the door is closed that the headlights flash through the window and she leaves.

Maura bites her lip and smiles, already reliving what has been the best night of her life.


	32. First Base

The sunlight was fighting through a dreary covering of darkened clouds on that particular Sunday afternoon. Maura hoped silently that just this once, Boston's weather would do as she wished and give her a pleasant day.

Not that Maura was freaking out. It wasn't like this was her first attempt at a date with her best friend or anything. Not like the outcome of this one evening could set a precedent for many evenings to come.

Oh wait. That's exactly what that was. She'd already changed outfits five times, unable to decide what she should wear to this particular first date venue. She knew what Jane would wear: jeans, boots, and one of her Red Sox jerseys.

She had a Red Sox jersey, had purchased one for just this occasion, but she couldn't help wondering if it was a bad idea. Jane was loyal to the Red Sox, possibly to a fault, and what if Maura (a non-supporter of almost all sports and teams) wearing a jersey was, like, sacrilege or something?

Normally when she's stressed out before a date, she calls her best friend... so what's the protocol when calling your best friend isn't an option?

"Okay," Maura said to herself before taking a calming breath. She filed away her stress for the moment and pushed thoughts of indecision from her mind.

Compartmentalizing always made decisions easier.

She picked the detective up on schedule, the two of them matching in Red Sox style. Jane had even complimented her jersey and her ability to dress almost casually.

Maura had beamed with pride.

It was the bottom of the ninth, tie score, and the Sox had runners on first and second. Two outs. That is the kind of sports-flavoured anticipation Maura loved best. Why? Because her detective was beyond sexy when she was so emotionally invested in her favourite American past-time.

Maura silently congratulated herself on picking a first date that allowed them to be comfortable and at ease with each other instead of awkward and embarrassed.

Yeah, Maura knew what was up.

She'd been concentrating too much on Jane's facial expressions. The loud crack of a bat and baseball colliding startled her out of her thoughts. The ball sailed through the air and Jane jumped to her feet, pulling Maura with her.

Home run.

The grin that spilled across Jane's face almost made the medical examiner's lungs stop breathing. What happened next actually did.

One second they're sending impossibly wide, toothy grins toward each other, and the next Jane's lips have pressed against hers while the world goes strangely silent around her.

It's a chaste kiss, refuses to linger, but then their faces are on the screen and everyone around them is calling for another. Jane's blush is too adorable for words.

This time Maura takes the initiative and wraps her arms around Jane's neck, pulling her closer. The kiss is nowhere near as innocent as the first, but the whistles and cat-calls are easily ignored.

A while away, three sets of eyes were glued to a big screen tv and a plate had just experienced the misfortune of crashing to the floor.

"About damn time," Frankie snorted, pulling out his phone to call Korsak about his winnings.


	33. Promises

**Warning: Umm, so, yeah, this isn't fluffy… just a little 'for your information'.**

Of all the outcomes Detective Jane Rizzoli had theorized, this was not one she'd seen coming. Yeah, okay, so maybe she'd been a tiny bit reckless on their latest bust. But in all honesty, who wouldn't have thrown themselves in front of a bullet for a kid? That's right: no one. It was the smart decision; the only decision.

Apparently that didn't mean enough to some people. But that's just the thing. If anyone could've understood why she did what she did, she would have sworn up and down that it would be Maura. At least, up until four days ago, when they'd still been married and happy, but most importantly, _together_.

Guess you never really know someone, no matter how much you believe you do.

She had to give the doctor props though, her lawyers knew how to draw up divorce papers in no time. Or maybe they'd been locked away since the wedding, slowly gathering dust until duty called. Maybe Maura'd always known that this would be how it would end: with her walking away. Because everyone and their mother knew that there was no way in hell Jane would ever walk away from _her._ No, Doctor Isles was doing the leaving.

Even though she'd promised to be there, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. Jane thought she knew what she was getting into, saying vows with a cop. Jane has to hand it to her, though, it takes real gall to serve divorce papers with the divorcee still in a hospital bed. Maura was lucky Jane was left-handed, or she'd have to wait until her right shoulder healed enough to sign her name.

Maybe Maura wasn't the only one who saw this coming. It would explain Jane's non-reaction throughout the whole ordeal. Like she knew this was a fleeting dream and any moment she'd wake up only to fond memories and no real future. Maybe they were doomed from the start. But they'd been in love, the purest form of love, and Jane had hoped it would be enough. It was. For her, not for Maura.

Or maybe it was simply the cocktail of painkillers flowing through her veins, removing her from the emotional implosion temporarily. Jane was starting to realize that there were a whole lot of maybes. She glanced at the clock, stunned at the fact that she only had five minutes left. Maura had been in an hour ago with the papers, calmly explaining her reasons and thoughts. After half an hour of words pouring out of the doctor's mouth, delivered with a clinical coldness Jane hadn't heard in years, she'd stopped Maura mid-sentence with a soft raise of her hand.

"Can you go get a coffee or something and come back in half an hour? I just need some time," she'd asked and Maura had nodded tightly, and was out the door mere seconds later. Already they were too polite, too formal; overcompensating.

The door opened and Maura re-entered the ward. Jane didn't want to prolong any of it, but she still had something she needed to know.

"I just need you to answer two questions, Maur," and she paused until the doctor nodded her acquiescence. The heart rate monitor echoed Jane's deep breath. "First, Maura Dorothea Isles, is this what you want?" Automatically a scowl graced Maura's face and her lips parted to spew indignity. Jane shook her head. "I need to know that this is all you. If you're doing this for your family or for some Goddamn noble reason or something, I just want to know. Frankly, I think I deserve to know."

"I told you, Jane, I can't do it anymore. I can't be with you anymore."

Jane nodded silently, thoughtfully; now for the real question. "Was any of this real for you? Did you ever actually love me?"

Maura's mouth dropped open in shock, a crack in her demeanour showing the hurt in her eyes. She took an involuntary step forward. "Jane – I – Of course I loved you."

And with that, Jane picked up the pen and made her mark, eyes now refusing to look at her soon to be ex-wife. "I'm sorry it wasn't enough," and she thrust the papers back into Maura's hands, gesturing for her to leave as she did so.

During her exit is the only time Jane saw Maura hesitate.

_Sometimes,_ Jane thought, _Sometimes people don't understand the promises they're making when they make them._ She tapped her pain pump and drifted away on a sea of morphine.

**[If you recognize the quote, it's courtesy of John Green's "The Fault in Our Stars". A brilliant book, by the way, I highly recommend it.]**


	34. Missing

For a second time, due to request, I present you with a Rizzles Ficlets Sequel, this time for "Promises" (Ch. 33)

* * *

When she wakes up, she's disoriented; an unwelcome side-effect to taking pain meds. She looks around her room and frowns. There's definitely something missing, but she can't quite place her finger on it. She inspects herself first. Shoulder's screaming, but when you have a bullet shatter through you, that's to be expected. Her gun's probably been taken for analysis. Her badge is on the table beside her. So what's missing?

She can hear her Ma down the hall giving hell to a nurse who most likely doesn't deserve the tongue-lashing.

"How dare you let my baby receive her yesterday? She's in a hospital bed, for crying out loud, you think she needs divorce papers to top all that off?"

Oh, right. That. And that's when Jane realizes what's missing: Maura. She allows herself one snuffle, but won't let her hand press the pump again. She shouldn't go from one addiction to another, especially when the first turned out to be less healthy than she thought. Okay, she can give herself leave for another snuffle if she's going to badass her way through waves of pain.

She wants to roll onto her side, but with all the tubes hooked up to her and the intricate sling surrounding her arm, she pushes down on the desire. She tries to look everywhere but at the plastic seat beside her bed or the door she'd let the love of her life walk out through yesterday.

Shit, she's actually going to have to deal with this. And apparently her mind is dead set on 'right now'. Through eyes half-closed in anticipation of the hurt, she looks down at her left hand. Yeah, the ring is still there alright; mocking her, taunting her. How could she have been so foolish? How could she have been so naïve as to actually believe that that perfect goddess was meant for her? How could she have believed that she had anything to offer the woman who had it all or could get it all with just the snap of her fingers.

It wasn't anything new. She'd always known the doctor was slumming with her, even when they'd just been friends. It's amazing what your heart can talk you into when you want it so badly to be the truth. She was a broken, blue-collar, temperamental cop. She didn't belong in Maura's world. God, even her name could make her heart twist and ache.

She thought about taking the ring off, showing the world that this wouldn't break and define her as other events had. She'd lived without Maura before; she could do it again. _But that was a half-life and you know it_, the thought was an immediate response to a life without her doctor.

The gripping sensation in her chest intensified.

No, she'd leave the ring on. Marriage goes two ways, after all. She meant it when she said 'til death do us part' and Jane Rizzoli does not go back on her word.

Maura never went back on her word either. Until this, anyway. Idly, Jane wondered if her ex-wife was experiencing a good case of hives for the lies she'd told yesterday. She hoped she did, even hoped she'd experienced a vasovagal experience, despite the guilt she felt at the thoughts.

Part of her wished she'd never met the doctor, to spare herself the crushing pain of loss that was bubbling just under the surface of the waning morphine. But part of her wouldn't trade a single second of Maura Isles being in her life, not for all the pain in the world.

Eventually she'd have to go back. Back to the precinct, back to their house, back to her life which had Maura in every single aspect. She should embrace the respite while she can, before she has to face that woman every day and know that even though she had once been hers, she never would be again. After all, she knew Doctor Isles. She knew Maura wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

She glances down at her ring again and the memory of the day it was placed on her finger erupts behind her eyelids, crystalline in clarity. She doesn't notice the tears slipping out of the corners of her eyes.

Her phone beeps from the table beside her. The ID tells her it's someone she'd rather not hear anything from. It's probably just something about when the doctor will be away from the house, so she can pick up her things, her remnants of a former life, without disturbing the peace of the one left whole. She shudders at the thought. She stares at her phone in contemplation for several minutes. She shrugs. Why not drive the knife in a little deeper? Maybe if she shatters a little more, she won't ever have to try and put herself back together. Maybe she can just stay broken and no one will mind.

She opens the text message. _Thank you for signing the papers, Detective Rizzoli_.

Yeah, Maura may have believed she loved her, but any trace of that is gone. She smirks bitterly as she types out her reply. The smile fades as she appraises her pain pump. She checks the room, more out of habit than actual necessity as she knows there's no one there. She gives it a tap, knowing it won't hurt anyone but her in the long run.

_You're welcome, Doctor Isles, but it's Detective Rizzoli-Isles._


	35. A Beautiful Mind

Jane emerges from the kitchen after nicking one of the leftovercannoli from her mother's now wrapped Tupperware container. Without hesitation she strolls over to the chessboard that Tommy and Maura are stationed at just as Maura makes a move. Jane almost rolls her eyes as she taps Tommy on the shoulder and moves one of his knights.

"Checkmate," she calls as she slips on her coat and boots.

"Thanks, sis," Tommy snorts.

"Tommy isn't the only Rizzoli with a beautiful mind, Doc," Jane warns as she waltzes out the door, leaving a stunned Maura Isles in the company of a shrugging Tommy Rizzoli and a smiling Angela.

"Jane plays chess?" Maura asks with surprise. Both the Rizzolis look at her.

"Well, yeah," Tommy says and Angela adds, "Who do you think taught him?" The doctor's eyes narrow at the front door Jane just exited through.

"In my defence, I totally would've seen that possibility for a win," Tommy assures Maura, but she's a bit preoccupied.

"I'll be right back, please excuse me," and she hurries out the door after her friend. She taps on the driver's side window of the Crown Victoria just as Jane's about to throw it in gear. The window rolls down.

"What's the matter, Maur? Not used to Tommy getting in a win?" she smirks playfully.

"You. Me. Rematch. Right now." Maura doesn't usually speak in sentence fragments.

"No way, Maura. There's a Sox game on tonight!" Jane whines, but even as she voices the complaint, her fingers are turning the ignition off and slipping the keys into her pocket. "Can't you just play Thomas again? It's basically the same thing."

Maura shakes her head. "Tommy didn't see that move. _I _didn't even see that move. Come on, get out, I want to know what you've been hiding from me."

Jane slips out of her car again, "I'm not hiding anything from you!"

Maura cocks a hip and glares at the detective. "Well you certainly weren't forthcoming with the information that you not only know how to play chess, but that you play extremely well."

Jane huffs as they walk back to the house. "I don't play 'extremely well'. I just happened to observe a move that would end my suffering of having to hear about Tommy's chess skills for the next week when I'm visiting you in the morgue. It was actually a very selfish move; you really shouldn't encourage it."

Maura doesn't bat an eye at the detective's weak attempts to get out of it. Suddenly Maura stops, yanking Jane's arm hard enough to force her to stop as well.

"Maura!"

Maura levels a death glare at the detective. "Don't you even dare think about throwing the game."

Jane fakes hurt. "Would I do a thing like that?" Maura narrows her eyes. Jane sighs. "Fine, what do I get if I win? I need something to motivate me."

Maura cocks her head to the side, thinking. "You seem to be rather fond of me making 'guesses'," Maura offers and Jane's eyes light up.

"Perfect!" Jane says and in true sibling form, knocks her brother from his place at the chess board.

"Wait," Maura cries. "What about if I win? Do I get something?"

Jane snorts, "You're getting me to play chess, isn't that enough?" The scowl on the doctor's face is adorable. "Oh alright, if you win, you can force me into a dress or something."

The smile on Maura's face is almost too big for her to contain.

Tommy and Angela share a look as Maura settles across from Jane. Wordlessly, the witnesses draw up chairs to one side as the pair at the table set up for the match.

After a mere twenty minutes they have a victor. Much to Maura's dismay and Jane's delight, the pathologist will be referring to the next six reddish-brown stains as blood. The grin on Jane's face is worth the hives.


	36. Criminal Justice

_"I applied to BCU," Jane offered out of the blue, playing with her food._

_"It's very hard to get into," Maura responded. The almost comforting tone wasn't lost on Jane, but she decided not to be insulted._

_She smiled slightly at the doctor, "I got in."_

_Maura's face clearly betrayed her shock at first, but then her brow furrowed in confusion, "Why didn't you go?"_

_Jane shrugged and took a bite. "I wanted to be a cop."_

_Maura saw right through her, like always. "What's the real reason?"_

_Jane sighed and mumbled around a mouthful of Chinese, "My father would have spent everything to send me there; I couldn't do that to him."_

_Not having enough money isn't something Maura often came across in her life. She wasn't quite sure how to ask certain questions without coming off as a spoiled rich kid. She decided to stick to an easy inquiry, something that would hopefully ease her piqued curiousity. "Did you ever tell him?" Her eyes were glued to Jane's face, deep in concentration._

_"No," Jane murmured and tilted her head to return the stare. "That would make him too sad."_

That conversation occurred a long time ago; several years, in fact, but it was one Maura had never forgotten. Back then, she'd let Jane divert the topic, but it still ate at her. She still had questions to ask. They burned in her mind right now, and given the surprise her detective had in store for tonight, there certainly seemed to be no time like the present to get some answers.

She turned her head to the woman beside her. "Jane," she began and waited until the brunette rolled over on their bed to face her. "If you'd gone to BCU, what would you have majored in?" The widening of Jane's eyes is obvious; she hadn't been expecting anything of that sort.

"Criminal justice," she answers after a beat. She raises herself up on an elbow. "I've always wanted to be involved in law enforcement. If I'd gone, I probably would've aimed to be a lawyer, slamming the bad guys away instead of tackling them in alleys."

"Hmm," Maura hums, more in acknowledgement than an attempt to convey something. "If you could go back in time and you had the money, would you go?"

Jane considers it for a second. "Knowing everything I do now, or knowing what I did at that age?"

Maura smiles, glad that Jane is taking the conversation seriously. "Both."

A moment lapses as Jane thinks through her answer. "Knowing everything I do now? I don't think I would. I love my job. And I love you; there is absolutely no guarantee that, without our paths crossing at the precinct, I would have met you," she smiles fondly at the doctor. "But if I didn't know how my life as a detective would turn out? If I was eighteen again, I definitely would've gone."

At this Maura nods. The answers are what she hypothesised that Jane would disclose and it's nice knowing she's right. She glances at her watch and discovers it's time they got going. Any other questions would have to wait.

She pats Jane's thigh before rolling out of bed, pulling the detective up with her.

* * *

They walk into the grand ballroom which is absolutely bursting with people. Maura only knows a few of her old professors; none of the alumni who bothered to show up for the reunion. She feels proud and confident, though, despite that. She's got Jane on her arm, looking positively _ravishing_ in the deep purple dress the doctor managed to talk her into, and that's more than enough to satisfy her. Especially when she knows just how fast she'll be allowed to strip it off after Jane's received her surprise and they've returned home.

She licks her lips absently in anticipation.

After mingling and conversing with several classmates who sought her out (having heard about her demanding and impressive career as well as reading of her in the papers), it's time. Maura pulls Jane along beside her as she heads into the library whose existence is a very well guarded secret. The head of Maura's alma mater greets them both with generous smiles.

"Thank you very much for coming, Doctor Isles and Detective Rizzoli." His handshake is firm yet pleasant. Maura can feel Jane's respect for the man rising with each passing second. "If you'll just give me one moment," he says as he turns away to rifle through a stack of envelopes. He selects the two he requires and turns back to them. The first is significantly smaller than the second and he hands that one to Maura; it's a simple thank you note for showing up to the event.

The second envelope he holds out to Jane, who's obviously confused, but takes the parcel anyway. "Thank you," she says hesitantly, almost as a question.

He raises his eyebrows. "You didn't tell her?" The question's aimed at Maura and now so is Jane's gaze.

"Tell me what?" Jane demands, but Maura smoothly ignores her.

"No, I thought it might be a pleasant surprise," she explains, well aware that the detective is darting glances between the two of them.

He chuckles, but gestures toward the envelope. "Please, Detective Rizzoli, open it."

Maura receives the searching look coolly, offering only a smile in response. Jane huffs and opens it, pulling out a sheaf of papers. Her quick inhalation of gasping surprise is the tell-tale sign she's read the important parts of the document.

"Maur, is this – what did you – how?" Maura's never heard Jane to be so at a loss for words. Well, aside from the afterglow of certain bedroom _activities_.

"I didn't do anything, really," she assures her. She watches as Jane grasps onto the edge of a bookshelf to maintain her balance.

"Maura, this is a scholarship for Criminal Justice majors." Jane's eyes are wide and looking a little watery. "And it's in my _name_."

Maura nods. "And the second part?" She watches as Jane flips a page, witnesses the jaw drop and the look of utter incredulity spread across her face.

"I've got an honorary bachelor's degree in Crim." Maura notices that Jane trips over the sentence, but wisely doesn't say a word. "Maura, how?"

Maura opens her mouth to respond, but the dean beats her to it. "Actually, I believe I can answer that question slightly better than Doctor Isles." He looks at Maura to make sure she's alright with him explaining. The small nod he receives allows him to continue, "Our academic institute was looking for ways to give back to the community. You've been in the papers and criminal justice is a faculty we don't usually focus on. You're smart, you're determined, you seemed like a good fit for us, so I contacted Doctor Isles and she was fully supportive of the process." He paused to let his words sink in. "As for the degree, it seemed only fitting that you should be a part of our alumni if we're going to name a scholarship fund after you."

Throwing everything Maura had ever taught Jane about social etiquette, the doctor couldn't help but smile as Jane pulled the dean into a thankful hug. Her smile only grew as Jane released him and moved on to her next target: Maura.

"I love you so much," Jane whispers into her ear.

"I love you more," Maura promises. "Now come on, I believe I owe the new graduate a nightcap." And then she winks slyly at Jane, just to make sure her meaning is clear.


	37. Need a Little Irish?

It had taken _years_, but she finally talked the responsible doctor into one night out on the town. Just so happened that this particular night was St. Patrick's Day, a day where the Irish (and, honestly, everybody else) try to imbibe as much liquor as physically possible. Maura would finally get the opportunity.

They didn't go to the Robber. After a careful discussion, they'd agreed to try some place new, where no one knew them. The bar they chose was only a few blocks from Jane's; a short cab ride or a long, drunken walk away. They wandered in around seven, but the party was already in full swing. Almost everyone had a pint in their hands, commenting on the rugby game on the screen or singing along to an ecclectic mix of Irish folk songs.

Jane led Maura to a corner of the bar, where they could drink in relative solitude. She slapped a twenty on the counter and ordered them two beers and a shot each to start the night. Maura, being a doctor, also insisted on two tall glasses of water.

Let's just say, the water remained untouched the entire night.

They took turns laying twenties on the bar and ordering shots. Maura's were classic, whereas Jane's were adventurous. It's not like Maura would decide to try a "Buttery Nipple" or a "Red-headed Slut" if left to her own devices. And Jane wasn't one to try liqueur shots, such as Maura's "B-52" or an "After Five".

Honestly, Jane was impressed Maura knew _any_ shots.

They worked their way steadily through Maura's entire repertoire of alcoholic shooters and they were making a very significant dent in Jane's list as well. They were also ridiculously drunk at this point, falling all over each other and giggling. In the morning they'd remember flashes of their evening and thank God that the guys around them were too involved with the shamrock traditions to attempt to engage the ladies hiding in a corner.

"Jane," Maura said after they'd downed both an "Irish Car Bomb" and a "Jager Bomb" in rapid succession.

"Maura," Jane returned, grinning at the way her friend was losing her pristine quality.

"Jane, d-do you have any-any Irish in you?" Maura asked, tripping over a couple of words due to her intoxicated state.

"Maur, you know I'm a p-pure Italian! God, you must b-be drunk," Jane giggled, poking Maura in the cheek.

The doctor bent down close to the detective's ear, her breath blowing across the sensitive skin. "Would you like s-some?"

Jane jerked away from her friend in surprise, but when she raised her eyes to meet Maura's, she saw nothing but desire in the glossy hazel. On impulse, she leaned down and kissed Maura on the cheek before whispering in her ear, "Only if you-you're supplying."

The mischievous grin, though not a usual addition to Maura's facial features, was definitely hot. Jane gulped as Maura grabbed her purse and took Jane's hand, pulling her out the door. She ogled the doctor from behind and smirked. _Definitely hot, period._

A four-block walk had never taken so little time; they practically ran back to Jane's place and didn't leave.

For the _entire_ weekend.


	38. Oh My Darling, Clementine

Jane stood with her arms crossed, mildly glaring at the doctor who was attempting to use her feminine wiles to achieve her ends.

"Please, Jane? I'll make it up to you," Maura purred as she fluttered her eyelashes. Jane just mutely shook her head. "Well," Maura huffed, straightening up and moving away from the detective. "If seduction won't work on you, I'll just have to annoy you into submission."

Jane's eyes widened. "Come on, Maur, it's an exhibit of old bits of metal that've been glued together! I don't want to go!"

Maura simply smiled before opening her mouth to sing, "In a cavern in a canyon, excavating for a mine, dwelt a miner, forty-niner, and his daughter, Clementine."

"Oh hell no." Jane muttered, fleeing the kitchen and heading for the bedroom.

Maura followed, calling after Jane in a lilting, musical voice, "Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling, Clementine! Thou art lost and gone forever, dreadful sorry, Clementine!"

"Maura!" Jane reprimanded, tossing the words behind her as she sought solace in a corner of their bedroom.

"Light she was and like a fairy, and her shoes were number nine. Herring boxes without topses, sandals were for Clementine!"

Jarringly, Jane knocked her head against the wall; Maura was so not playing fair.

"Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling, Clementine! Thou art lost and gone forever, dreadful sorry, Clementine!" Maura was only slightly alarmed at the sight of Jane banging her had on the wall. She stepped up behind her detective and wrapped her arms around the slender waist. She reached up briefly to swipe a portion of Jane's hair away from her neck before planting a nuzzling kiss there.

Jane stopped torturing her skull.

"Please, Jane? I'll never sing that song to you again," Maura promised, placing butterfly kisses along the tan skin of her neck and jaw.

Jane sighed softly at the feel of her doctor's lips. "Fine," she breathed softly and felt Maura smile against her collar. Maura spun Jane around and planted a loving kiss on the brunette's lips.

"Thanks, Jane!" she said happily, entwining her fingers with the detective's graceful counterparts before leading the two of them out the door.


	39. So Married

"Hey, Frankie, I'm curious," Jane began, wandering over to her brother who was sitting at the bar.

"About?" He asked, taking a pull from his beer.

"How'd you know Frost's mom and her roommate were together?" She quickly moved to defend herself. "I mean, I know my reasons for knowing, but what were yours?"

Frankie snorted, "That's easy. They acted just like you and Maura: so married," he explained and shrugged. Jane froze.

"What? But we aren't – I mean, I love Maur, but – Frankie, I'm not dating Maura!" Jane sputtered.

He chuckles into his beer. "Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that."

Bristling, Jane forcefully turned Frankie's face toward her. "Explain. Now. Please."

The younger Rizzoli sighed. "Look, okay, you and Maura just have this _thing_ and it's like you guys are dating, just without sex. Well, as far as we know, but feel free not to enlighten me about that, and a lot of the behaviours the two of you exhibit toward each other were mirrored with Frost's mom and her girlfriend, so it was pretty darn obvious."

Jane couldn't decide between slapping her brother or fleeing the bar. Frankie must have sensed the possibility of hostility because he was quick to elaborate. "It's nothing bad, Jane, it's just that you guys are barely out of the other's presence, you two touch a lot, and, come on, some of your guys' eye contact had me pretty embarrassed just 'cause I was witnessing it!"

Still shocked, Jane couldn't say a word, but by now Frankie was on a roll. "But the biggest indicator of you two, you know, is that you let her touch your hands. Like, all the time. I rarely get away with that; hell, Ma rarely gets away with that. But you let her touch your scars and that's the big, bright neon sign."

Jane sank onto the stool beside her brother, no longer able to stand on her weak knees. Frankie cast a glance in her direction before patting her on the shoulder. "S'okay, Sis, now you know."

Yeah. She knew alright. Goddamn, she was the _detective_ for crying out loud, she should've seen the signs before freaking Frankie did! Still unable to speak, she ruffled Frankie's hair affectionately, ignoring his indignant, "Hey!" and made a beeline for the door and her car.

Her mind was numb as she raced through Boston streets and by the time she found herself on the doorstep of a nice house in Beacon Hill she'd been frequenting a lot lately, her heart was hammering in her chest, the pulse blasting in her ears. In a sudden burst of courage, she rapped on the door and waited both eagerly and warily for it to open.

When it did, words burst out of her, halting the doctor in her greeting, "Why aren't we dating?"

Maura's jaw dropped only slightly, the rigourous training of her childhood coming into play. "Pardon?"

Jane shuffled her feet and started wringing her hands. "Frankie, he pointed it out to me. We act like we're dating, we seem like we're dating, so why aren't we dating?"

Maura narrowed her eyes at the detective, scrutinising for signs of alcohol consumption. Finding none, she automatically reached for Jane's hands, stilling the nervous habit.

"See?!" Jane demanded, gesturing toward their hands. Maura just looked at her, utterly perplexed. Suddenly, Jane yanked her hands back from Maura. "Sorry, I'm being stupid, I don't know what's wrong with me; I gotta go." And she nearly sprinted to her car.

Maura was stunned, but she recovered enough to chase after the detective, almost knocking Jane into the car door as she put her hands on either side of the flighty woman, effectively giving her no chance of escape. "Jane, what's going on?"

Jane sighed, determined to look anywhere but at the doc. "Nothing, Maur, I'm just – I'm just thinking too much I think. I should probably just go to sleep." She tried in vain to move out of the cage of Maura's arms.

"Do you want to date me?" The question erupted from Maura's lips, almost unconsciously. The distraught look on Jane's face told her the answer. "Oh, Jane."

"No, Maura, please, just let me get in my car and go back to my apartment. We can forget this _ever_ happened and everything will be fine and we'll be fine and, just, please!" Jane's voice took on a distinctly desperate undertone toward the end.

Maura moved her hands from the vehicle to Jane's sides. "I can't."

Jane twirled in the embrace, ready to plead her case once more. Her mouth was open, defensive argument on the tip of her tongue, but then soft lips were pressing against her own, hesitant yet powerful.

Time stopped, or it seemed to at least. All of Jane's anxiety disappeared at that first touch of perfection. After a long moment, they pulled away. Jane was scared about meeting Maura's insistent gaze; she could feel it on her face even now. Maura placed a finger on the detective's chin and tilted her head. She placed a feather-light kiss at the corner of Jane's mouth.

"To answer your question: we are. Dating, that is."


	40. Scratch My Back

She really was trying to be subtle about it. Perched on her desk in the middle of the bullpen with her arm tucked behind her back, trying to desperately soothe the itch that was just out of reach.

"Okay, so if it wasn't the sister, who else has motive?" Frost asked, pacing in front of his own desk.

"The ex?" Korsak suggested as he dug into a doughnut.

Jane shook her head, still reaching for that one spot. "No, he has an airtight alibi." The tell-tale click of heels caused them all to turn in the direction of the medical examiner.

"Hey Maur, did you get any new information for us?" Jane asked, moving her arm to try a new tactic for getting to the itch.

"Yes, I ran the results and there's absolutely no way it was the sister." Maura gave her friend an odd look as she came to a stop beside Jane's desk.

"Yeah, we just figured that out," Jane admitted, emitting a sigh of frustration at the elusive spot on her back. Her arm dropped from their mission to run a stressed hand through her hair. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a cold hand slide up her back, _under her shirt_. Just as she was about to demand what it was Maura was up to, those hands found the precise spot of inflammation and she hummed happily. Content, she closed her eyes.

Korsak and Frost exchanged mildly amused glances at the spectacle in front of them. Like they couldn't tell what was going on back there.

Jane's eyes snapped open and her spine locked, causing the hand on her back to still immediately. "Guys, it was the manager!" She patted Maura on the shoulder in thanks before she strode over to their board. "See? It all fits!" She exclaimed as she started mapping out all of the connections.

Korsak was suitably impressed.

Frost snorted, "If Maura's little back massage makes your brain work that well, maybe they should be prescribed to everyone in homicide."

The glare he received from that particular quip would've made a biker wilt.

"Oh, I wasn't massaging her back," Maura stated truthfully. "I was scratching an itch that's been bothering Jane all morning."

Jane's jaw dropped. "How d'you know that?"

Maura gave her a look that said _are you kidding me right now?_ before answering the question, "Sometimes, when someone is bitten during sexual intercourse-"

"MAURA!" Jane said loudly, rushing over to clap her hand over the doctor's mouth. Frost and Korsak attempted to contain their laughter. Noticeably, Jane paled.

Looking up at Jane innocently, Maura asked, "What? I was just explaining that sometimes bites of that nature result in an itching sensation. It was obvious you were experiencing the phenomenon as you were trying to scratch it before I got here."

Flabbergasted would be the best word to describe the detective at the moment.

"Let's go, we've got a location," Frost called after checking his phone. He and Korsak led the way as Jane lingered to say something to Maura.

"Okay, thank you for making the itch better, but please, _please_, do not say anything more about what we may or may not engage in behind closed doors." Jane shrugged on her blazer. She bent down to whisper in Maura's ear, "You're mine." And then she was gone, oblivious to the chills that coursed down the medical examiner's spine at the husky voice displaying dominance.

"Completely," Maura whispered before turning and heading back to the morgue.


	41. Tell Me I'm a Wreck

Trees blurred by in her peripheral vision, knees weakening with every passing step. She thought she could do this. She'd convinced herself that she could stand by and be the best friend while Maura married Ian.

She'd never been more wrong in her life. It'd eaten away at her, more so every day as the wedding drew closer. She's smiled and faked her way through dress fittings and finding caterers and Maura's constant need to prattle on about something else Ian did spectacularly. The pit of jealousy seemed a permanent fixture in her gut.

Shortly after Maura's announcement, the detective had taken up running regularly. And by regularly, she runs during every spare moment. If she's not on a case, asleep, or helping Maura with something, she and Jo (and sometimes even the dog is too worn out to run with her, like tonight) will take off for hours. It's the only thing that's kept her sane. When she's running, she can tune everything out. It's just her breathing and the pavement; there's no wedding, there's no unrequited love, there's no noose tightening around her neck.

As a result, she's lost a lot of weight that she couldn't really afford to lose. She's almost deathly skinny, but her muscles are primed and her skin tanned from the hours spent outside. No one knows there's anything wrong, but this is one problem even Jane can't outrun.

Her legs burn. She's been out here running for longer than ever before; a true feat of endurance. She started as soon as she'd changed after getting home at seven and now it's close to four. Her heart and lungs ache for different reasons and that's when she realises where she is: Beacon Hill. Even subconsciously, she's drawn to the doctor.

The jealousy and loss are back with a vengeance, vying for position within her slender body. She can feel the tears threaten to appear in her eyes and that's when she knows: she can't do this. She can't stand by and watch Maura tie the knot with that man who waltzes in and out of her life like he owns it, without a thought to the pain he puts her through.

Her legs burn. But they carry her toward that familiar driveway, paying no heed to the fact that her shirt's soaked through and she looks like a wreck.

She is a wreck. She's _been_ a wreck, for the past several months.

There are no lights on, but she knows it doesn't matter. Maura will come to the door for her. Her limbs are quivering from over-exertion even as her hand taps at the door. One by one, dim lights appear through the frosted glass and then Maura's there in front of her, half asleep.

"Jane?" The concern in her voice almost makes her lose it.

"Hi Maur, I just – I need to talk," the words are barely more than a whisper and her eyes refuse to meet the doctor's.

"What's going on? It's four a.m., are you alright?" she can feel Maura's eyes searching her for answers.

"You can't marry Ian," she blurts and feels Maura freeze.

Speak of the devil. "Honey? Are you okay?" the distinctly male voice comes through the gap between the door and the jamb.

Maura doesn't take her eyes of her as she replies, "I'm fine, it's okay." She closes the door behind her softly so now they're both on the front step.

Jane looks everywhere but at Maura. If she looks at Maura, she'll lose her nerve and she has to get this out before it's too late; before she regrets never saying anything for the rest of her life.

"What are you talking about? Why?" Maura's confusion is obvious and for a split second, Jane rethinks her confession. But she's here and it's been killing her slowly and she needs to be able to live with herself in the future.

"Because," Jane says, raspier than ever. She's choking on her emotions, the lump in her throat, the constriction in her chest.

"Because why?" Maura asks and she takes a small step toward Jane.

Jane lifts her head at the small movement, but her eyes meet the hazel of the medical examiner's and she's done, a goner. She leans forward and presses a hesitant kiss to Maura's lips. She gets bolder and presses still more firmly before realising that her best friend is shocked into holding still. She jerks her head away and looks down at the ground again, unsure of how to explain what just happened. Looking up, she tries to find the words, but Maura's just staring at her like she's never seen her before and any words Jane might have said are lost.

It takes her by surprise when she feels a hand on her neck and then those beautiful, luscious lips against hers once more. The kiss is insistent and there are hands in her hair, her own hands on Maura's shirt covered back. They're pulling each other closer and Jane fights hard to ignore the need to breathe. All she can feel is the need and desire that has haunted her for what seems like forever.

And then they pull away at the same time, resting their foreheads together and everything that has just occurred speeds through Jane's mind. Her actions catch up to her and the panic and fear she feels takes over everything.

"Oh God," she says in disbelief. "Oh God, I – I gotta go." It's obvious that she's on the verge of tears; the cadence of her voice changing slightly. She can't look at Maura; she can't take the question she knows will be there in those gorgeous, expressive, God-forsaken eyes. She runs, taking off at a sprint, desperate to put as much distance between herself and her best friend, if she's even that anymore.

Her legs burn. She stumbles up the stairs to her apartment, utterly spent and drained. It's almost six. Jo whines as Jane staggers through the door, following the detective to the bedroom. She should shower, but she can't find the energy. Her bed is more than inviting, so she collapses on top of the covers without bothering to take her shoes off. Jo hops up onto the bed and then lays beside her, trying to help but not quite knowing how.

Reluctantly, she plucks her phone from her pocket, intently ignoring the various missed calls and texts from what's sure to be a pissed off and confused pathologist. She sends the same text to Frost and Korsak, saying she's ill and won't be in. Then she chucks it across the room, lazily. She barely hears the crash before she's drifting off on a tidal wave of exhaustion.


	42. Don't Make Me Confess

Yet another Rizzles Ficlets Sequel.

* * *

She'd been hiding out in her apartment almost a full day, but she should've expected Maura not to let her be after their early morning encounter. The knocking at her door didn't surprise her, though she did ignore it. Instead, she walked into her closet and huddled into a corner just as her front door opened.

"Jane?" Maura sounded about as exhausted as Jane was feeling. Saying nothing, she listened carefully to the soft footsteps treading across the floor of her front room.

"Jane?" Maura called again, now just outside the bedroom door.

Jane held her breath.

The closet opened and Jane squeezed her eyes shut, desperately hoping to blend into the framework of the walls.

"I can see you, you know." She felt the air shift as Maura crouched down beside her. She gulped.

"I called in sick today. You should probably leave before you catch what I've got." Jane wasn't exactly in the mood to be delicate. She opened her eyes only to meet the blazing gaze of one very disgruntled medical examiner.

"You and I both know you aren't sick. What's going on Jane? What was that last night?" Maura sat on the floor, blocking the only exit. Her earnest, searching stare made the green in her hazel eyes more prominent. Jane's breath caught in her throat.

Maura shuffled closer, placing a placating hand on Jane's knee. "Talk to me."

Jane sighed and rubbed her palms. "Maur, do me a favour and just forget everything that happened earlier, okay? I was momentarily nuts and in my lapse of sanity, I did something I should definitely not have. Can we please just leave it at that?" The plea in her voice was weak and vulnerable, even to her own ears. She hated it.

Maura's shoulders slumped and Jane felt an unsettling combination of relief and trepidation. Then Maura's spine straightened and a fierce determination crashed through her eyes. "No."

The word snapped any sense of control Jane had thought she'd had over the situation and the flood gates opened with purpose, tears decorating her cheeks. "Please," she whispered softly, begging desperately.

"No," Maura repeated. "You tell me not to marry Ian, you kiss me, and then you run away from me, from _me_; I think I deserve an explanation."

Jane shook her head. "I take it all back. You love Ian; you should marry him. And kissing you was a mistake that I wish I'd never made." _Because now I can't get over the memory of feeling your lips on mine_. Jane shrugged, "As for the running, I was in the middle of a jog when I stopped by your place. I had to get back to it."

"I think those may be the most flimsy, ridiculous, lying excuses you've ever given me, Jane," Maura stated, calling her on her bullshit. "I want answers Jane. I want to know: why I shouldn't marry Ian, why you were jogging at four in the morning, and why you've lost so much weight." She paused, "And I am not leaving until I get them."

"I got home from work and went for a run, tried to blow off a little steam and clear my head. That's all. And I haven't lost that much weight," Jane lied, staring intently at her hands. She could feel the frustration pouring off of Maura in huge, cascading waves, so she wasn't surprised when the doctor's hand moved from her knee to her face, angling it toward her.

She _was_ surprised when she felt those sinful lips against hers for the third time in twenty four hours and her eyes closed automatically. Oh, she knew this would hurt when it was over, knew that it would only serve to make everything even more difficult, but she couldn't have given up the chance to feel like that again.

Maura was the one to pull away, but she didn't go far. Lips a few millimetres apart, "Just tell me the truth, Jane," she whispered.

Jane's eyes didn't open, but she softly said, "I can't, Maur. It's not fair to you."

"Don't you think I should be the judge of that?" Maura asked, stroking the detective's cheek with a fingertip.

Jane sighed and opened her eyes; the view of her best friend so close in front of her made her heart beat frantically increase. There was no way around it. "Okay, Maur. Have it your way, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Maura grinned at the victory. "Why were you really running at four a.m.?"

Jane nodded, this she could answer. "I wasn't lying before. I had a lot on my mind and I needed to forget everything."

Maura was shaking her head before Jane had even finished explaining. "No, I mean what were you trying to forget."

Pulse racing rapidly, eyes darting everywhere but in front of her, Jane responded, "That I'm in love with you."

And suddenly everything fell into place for Maura. At last, she understood the not-quite-genuine smiles the detective shoved on her face when doing anything wedding related. "Is that why you've lost so much weight?" she asked, concerned at the living skeleton who was her best friend.

Jane merely nodded, still tense and waiting for a reaction.

"Is that why I shouldn't marry Ian?"

Jane shook her head vehemently. "No! I would never – no. That's an entirely different can of worms. I would never be that dismissive of your feelings for him; I couldn't do that to you. If you felt like you had to choose between the two of us, it would tear you apart. I wouldn't do that to you."

"Then why?" Maura asked, painstakingly confused.

"Maur," Jane said softly, lovingly. "He doesn't deserve you. He's kept you on a string for _years_. He's been a hurricane blowing into and out of your life a few days at a time when it suits him. Never once did he consider the possibility that you wanted him to stay. Never once did he think he should be here for _you_. He asked you to marry him four months ago during a two-day stint. Now he's back for three days, trying to fit all the wedding planning into seventy-two hours. That's just the way he works and you don't deserve to be treated like you're a consolation prize."

Frankly, Maura was a little shocked that Jane was so forthcoming and honest with her. It was then that she realised that something had been missing in their friendship since the news broke: Jane's truthfulness. "You don't treat me like a consolation prize," Maura stated, surprised when she discovered just how true that sentence was.

"I never could. You're like the lottery jackpot; elusive, enticing, and way out of my league. I'm grateful for every single minute you choose to spend with me because I know that one day, the minutes will stop. I know that you'll see just how much time you've wasted with me. And when that day comes, I won't make a scene. I have nothing to hold you here with. I'll let you go and then I'll try to remember the time where I lived without you and I'll probably turn into a mess, but I'll be a happy, miserable mess because you'll be happy wherever you are and that's all I've ever wanted." Jane's confession gave them both a lot to ponder. They didn't say a word for several minutes.

Finally, Maura said, "Tell me." A pause. "Please."

Jane flexed her hands and stared at her scars before lifting her eyes to Maura's. "I love you."

Maura smiled and pecked Jane on the cheek. "Then I can't marry Ian."

The huge weight that's been tying Jane down is suddenly gone. The noose around her neck loosens and she finds it easier to breathe. There's one small sliver of guilt, one that she knows will probably stay with her for the rest of her life, but Maura's wrapped her arms around her and they're hugging and Jane just can't be bothered with the future right now.

Because Maura is here, with her, and it feels like perfection.


	43. Just a Little Keepsake

"Okay, Frankie, in hindsight maybe this was a really, really bad idea," Jane's voice is panicked as she twists around in the car, trying to see her latest addition.

"Jane, it's not that bad. Honestly, it's really rather sweet," Frankie admits, then gives her a smile meant to mock. Jane slaps his arm.

"No, really, you know how she is about certain hygienic things. I'll probably be subjected to a thirty minute disposition on the complications that arise from getting inked," she ran a hand through her hair, tense.

"I really think you're over-exaggerating," Frankie says as he looks over at his big, bad, love-struck sister. "Probably only twenty minutes." He winks and in spite of herself, Jane grins. She claps her brother on the back before getting out of the vehicle and disappearing into the house.

* * *

Maura was just pulling a beer out of the fridge for Jane when the brunette walked through the door. When no remark regarding the current state of the door's lock burst from Jane's lips, Maura took it as the first clue that something was amiss. The second indicator was the almost guilty look on the detective's face. Strike three was the grimace of pain that flitted across Jane's face when Maura grazed her side.

Despite many protests, she yanked Jane's shirt up to reveal the freshly bandaged wound.

"Oh, Jane! Why didn't you tell me you were hurt? What happened?" She interrogated as she started picking at the tape, determined to redress it herself.

"No, Maura, please don't look under-" but Jane's desperate plea was cut short as wind blew across the tender skin.

There's a delicate smattering of ink across the detective's red skin, obviously fresh from the parlour. It's modest, about the size of a half-dollar, and Maura just wants to run her fingers over it. Much to Maura's surprise, it's actually a very tasteful piece of body art, and the sentimental value is over the top. She can feel tears starting in the corners of her eyes.

It's breathtaking: two Celtic knots are the main components, specifically the knots signifying long life and love, tied together. And right in the middle, tying those two together is a cursive 'M' which, if Maura didn't deem it highly unlikely, she could have sworn was written with her own hand.

"Jane," Maura says softly and it's only then that Jane has the courage to look down at her best friend. She's startled to see tears leaking out of the pathologist's eyes.

"Maur, are you crying?" disbelief and remorse evident in her tone.

"I'm sorry, my amygdala and lacrimal gland have a connection that I can't really control," Maura explains as she wipes a couple tears away. She looks up to meet the inquisitive eyes of her girlfriend. "It's beautiful."

Jane smiles shyly, "So're you."

"You looked up the knots yourself?" Maura asks, suitably impressed with the thoroughness of the detective's research.

"Yeah. But the 'M' was all you," Jane shrugs, moving her hands so Maura no longer has to hold her shirt up.

Maura's confusion is evident. "How?"

"Oh." Jane pulls a folded piece of paper from her pocket. "I had her recreate your 'M' from this note you left me a while back."

Maura takes the note in shaky fingers and opens it:

_J,_

_I just went out to get us some coffee; I didn't have any left in the cupboard._

_Please don't think I left you like a one-off stand._

_I love you._

_M_

"You still have this?" she asks, pleasantly stunned.

Jane blushes. "Well, yeah. It's the first time you said you loved me. You know, in _that_ way."

"I love you," Maura states automatically before pressing a kiss just off to the side of Jane's permanent declaration of love.

"Love you, too," Jane responds, smiling euphorically.

Maura takes her by the hand and pulls her to the bathroom. "Come on, let's get your tattoo redressed."


	44. Fluff

The first time Maura had ever stolen a bite of Jane's highly suspicious peanut butter and fluff sandwich, she experienced all the classic indicators of sexual arousal. There was just something about the delightfully tempting, tantalizingly delicious mixture of flavours that drove the doctor absolutely wild.

She found herself waking in the middle of the night, a habit she'd certainly never had before her discovery of the mystical food item, and going to the kitchen to make one of her guilty pleasures as a midnight snack. Doctor Maura Isles, the beacon of good nutrition, stuffing her face at an inopportune time with chemicals, and not having a single regret about it.

It was one of those nights, incidentally falling on a sleepover day, that Maura woke at 1:53 in the morning, craving the S'mores-like consistency, the sugar rush of a doughnut, and the taste of a childhood she'd never gotten to experience. She'd really tried to be stealthy as she'd slipped from her bed without jostling the Jane sleeping beside her. Apparently her best efforts weren't enough because just as she'd finished making her snack and taken a bite, the detective softly shuffled into the dimly lit kitchen.

"Maur? What're you doing?" Jane asked, her voice raspier than usual due to sleep. Maura swallowed her mouthful of orgasmic bread and Jane's eyes focused on her. "Are you eating a sandwich?" She sounded almost scandalized. Then her gaze narrowed as she inspected the filling. "Are you having peanut butter and fluff?"

Maura simply nodded, taking another chunk out of the sandwich just before it was whisked out of her hands. The look of outrage on her face almost made Jane laugh.

"You were gonna have this whole thing without me," Jane stated, staring down the medical examiner. "That is _so_ not cool!" And she proceeded to take a huge bite of the almost-gone sandwich. She handed it back and Maura's glare cooled, but only slightly.

In an attempt to appease Maura, Jane bent forward and pecked her sweetly on the lips before tapping her nose softly with a finger.

Maura popped the last of her sandwich in her mouth, smiling broadly as she fully enjoyed it. Jane just chuckled and took her by the hand. "You're too cute."


	45. We Can Do Anything

The park bench is digging into her gluteus maximus, but all Maura can think about is the fact that Jane is sitting beside her... and that her head is slowly moving closer towards hers. Automatically, Maura's hands reach out to capture Jane's cheeks, but Jane's already moving away. Before she can think about it and weigh all the possibilities, her hands have gone the extra mile and captured the jaw of the retreating detective to pull her back in.

When their lips touch, a fire courses through their veins, burning through skin with an infectious desire. Jane gasps at the contact and automatically moves her hand to Maura's neck, pulling her closer into the embrace.

Maura's mind went blank at the first meeting. Consumed entirely by the moment, she almost didn't recognise the craving for more lodging itself in her chest cavity. The fact that Jane was responding sent shivers down her spine and her flesh broke out into goosebumps.

At last, Jane pulled away and rested her forehead against Maura's with her eyes closed, teeth softly biting her bottom lip, tears threatening to leak out of the corners of her eyes. "Maura," she whispered softly, lovingly.

The doctor moved away briefly, just long enough to plant a kiss on the tip of Jane's nose. "Jane," she sighs, almost purring with the sense of contentment flowing through her.

"I don't know how to do this," Jane admits, opening her eyes to gaze into Maura's.

"We don't have to know how to do anything, Jane. We just have to be willing to dive into it together, and if we can do that, I have no doubt that we can do anything we want."


	46. Piggy Back

They're burning up the pavement beneath their feet at the God-forsaken hour of 6a.m. All Maura's idea, of course. 'Oh, Jane, we should take up early morning running! It's excellent for the constitution...' blah, blah, blah.

Stupid, stupid, Rizzoli for agreeing. She loves her sleep; particularly the period from six to eight. But, she loves Maura too, and that's the entire reason she's even doing this. You can bet that she'll use this for leverage at a later date. Not that she needs the leverage, Maura seems willing to do just about anything so long as Jane is there, but it makes Jane breathe easier about dragging Maura to do things outside of _her_ comfort zone.

There's a soft intake of breath beside her, followed by a low groan, and suddenly the medical examiner is no longer running alongside. She jerks to a halt before whipping around to find her friend on the ground. "Maura, are you okay? What happened?"

Holding her ankle in front of her, Maura replies, "I seem to have injured my talocrural joint. I don't think I'll be able to finish our run this morning." She raises her eyes to meet Jane's contemplative look. Before she can protest, the brunette is pulling her to stand on her one good foot and instructing her to jump. "I'm sorry, what?"

Jane rolls her eyes. "You know, jump. Like a piggy back ride." At Maura's perplexed stare, her jaw drops. "You've never had a piggy back?"

Maura shakes her head.

"Well that settles it! Climb aboard, Doctor Isles. I'll crouch low and all you have to do is wrap your arms around my neck and rest your legs under my arms, okay? Come on!" She lowers herself to the ground and then has to tug the doctor onto her back. She stands, testing out the added weight. It's not a lot; she can definitely handle it.

"Jane, I don't think this can be any good for your lumbar vertebrae or your lateral collateral ligaments." Maura protests as she learns by example what, exactly, a piggy back ride is.

Jane snorts. Of course she wouldn't use plain English. "Maur, I'm fine. Honestly, it's only about a mile and a half back to your place where you can sort yourself out. No big deal."

So Maura relaxes into the interesting new embrace she finds herself in. She can feel the strength in the muscles beneath the skin that she's pressed up against, working hard to get them home. It's kind of nice to depend on someone when they're worth the risk. She places her chin on Jane's shoulder, settling in for the trip just as a cab passes by. Stiffening automatically, she waits for Jane to flag it down and bring their contact to an end, but no such thing happens.

She relaxes.

Another cab passes by on the next block, but still no sign of cessation from her friend. A sense of calm flows through her and she barely glances toward the road at the next yellow blur.

_In and out, come on Jane, you're doing just fine. Don't concentrate on her breath hitting your ear. How warm and inviting it- Damn it, I said stop. God. Just think about anything else than the fact that you're touching more of your friend than ever before. That those are her legs around your waist- FOR FUCK'S SAKE, JANE, GET A GRIP._ Silently, Jane berates herself for her mind wandering into the inappropriate realm of thought. She focuses only on the ground in front of her, powerfully ignoring everything else around them.

When they get home, after Maura's attended to her leg and they're in the kitchen sipping on coffee, Maura turns to her and asks, "Do you think I'd be able to get another piggy back ride from you in the future?"

Jane swears her heart stops at the adorable look of quiet innocence on Maura's face. Unbidden, flashbacks from their earlier walk home stream through her mind. She smiles at the recent memories, the lingering feeling of womanly perfection surrounding her.

"Yeah, Maur, whenever you want."


	47. Dirty Little Secret

They've been dating for more than three months now, but Jane hasn't been able to tell a single soul. And oh, how she's wanted to. She's wanted to shout it from the rooftops, yell at the countless good looking suitors who came calling for her girlfriend, but she made a promise not to say a word.

Jane Rizzoli doesn't break promises. But right now, she's kind of wishing she did because Maura looks absolutely drop dead sexy in her little black dress. More than that, though, are the shameless stares, emanating from the various testosterone-filled cops around the room, which just make Jane want to stalk toward her girl and kiss her so that everyone would know she's off limits.

Is it Neanderthalian? Yes. Is it completely irrational and outrageous? Yes. Does she still want to do it? Hell yes.

She sets her jaw and makes a bee-line for the doctor. Leaning down, she whispers into her ear, "Maur, you'll have to forgive me, but I can no longer adhere to our agreement about secrecy. Consider this your warning, if you're still here in seven seconds, I will end up kissing you." Then she pulls away, with the ball in Maura's court.

Maura doesn't move a muscle.

Jane looks around the room, making severe eye contact with every single hormonal man, before placing her hand on the back of Maura's neck and locking their lips together.

The room goes silent, but then there's the first call of 'about damn time' and soon enough they're being surrounded with hollers, congratulations, and approval.

Jane pulls away and she grins down at Maura. The medical examiner can't help herself, she's blushing something fierce and she's got this great, goofy smile on her lips that Jane put there. _Jane_. Not some arrogant prick in a suit, or some hotshot with more money than brains. Her.

No other realisation has ever made her happier.


	48. Coffee

It was a lovely, sunny Boston morning. The kind of day where you should be outside, soaking up some rays, or doing laps in a neighbour's convenient backyard pool. Or, if you happen to be lucky enough to have as gorgeous a girlfriend as Jane Rizzoli does, it was the opportune day to wake up slowly, limbs wrapped comfortably around the aforementioned goddess.

She slipped from the warm embrace gently, careful not to rouse her bed mate. A small whimper was the only indication that Maura even registered the loss of contact, and it brought a smile to Jane's face. She snuck off to the kitchen, doing her level best to brew the coffee as quietly as possible. Once she had succeeded, she steadily brought two cups back into the bedroom and placed one on the nightstand by the stunningly beautiful, sleeping doctor.

Setting her own mug on her own table, she climbed back into bed and the embrace she'd left moments ago. A contented sigh escaped Maura's lips and she smiled as she wrapped her arms around her detective.

Jane reached over for her coffee and took a sip, not noticing that Maura had opened her eyes and was trying to will the coffee over to herself. Just as Jane reached to put the mug back down, Maura snatched it out of her hands and took a large sip, moaning contently at the comfort it brought.

Jane smacked her lightly on the arm, "Hey! That's _my_ coffee!" She huffed. "Yours is over there," she pointed to the other side of the still prone doctor.

Maura blushed, "Whoops. But yours tastes better."

"Only because it's stolen," Jane scoffed. Maura sat up and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Love you," she offered, smiling behind her coffee cup.

Jane shook her head. Honestly, that woman... "Love you, too."


	49. Frisk Me

Maura entered the garage without saying a single word to Jane. So, of course, Jane followed her to try to get some answers. As the doctor placed her case in the trunk, Jane formed a plan. She crept up behind Maura just as she was about to place a couple files on the passenger seat.

"Freeze," she called loudly, quickly moving her body to press against Maura's and lean them both against the car. Her arms brushed against Maura's as she grasped her hands. "You're under arrest," she declared into the pathologist's ear.

Maura let out a sigh of annoyance and closed her eyes briefly, registering the warmth from the detective spreading across her skin.

"Put your hands on the car," Jane demanded, helping with her own hands. Maura turned her head to try and look at the detective, but quickly returned to face forward when she couldn't make eye contact. "I'm going to frisk you; don't move."

Maura exhaled loudly as Jane pulled her to an arm's length from the car, already imagining the feel of Jane's hands roaming her clothed body. She turned again into Jane, the back of her head grazing the strong jaw she'd taken to tracing with a finger lately. "Jane-" she began, but was quickly shushed by the impatient cop. And then those long, graceful fingers were skimming across the back of her hands, gliding seductively along her forearms and up to her shoulders.

Jane nuzzled her nose into Maura's hair, breathing in the shampoo smell she'd come to love. She closed her eyes and her hands traced along the front of Maura's shirt, touching her clavicles before moving toward her neck.

Maura closed her eyes. The fingers dancing across her skin conjured heat at every little contact. Unconsciously, she arched her back ever so slightly and tilted her head up and back against Jane's cheeks.

Jane caressed under the doctor's chin, drifting down her neck and automatically, her head leaned forward to brush against those lovely, silky locks. Her hands grazed Maura's sides under her jacket, with a fleeting foray across toned abs. She reached up to gently cup and squeeze two perfect breasts, "I accuse you of abandoning me."

Maura's eyes flew open as she felt those skilled fingers wander down to her hips, and then Jane's leg was between her own, spreading them farther apart. Jane's "of hitting me," was murmured against her hair, and the hot breath on her skin made Maura's own breath hitch.

Jane crouched down, dragging her palms around Maura's thighs and lightly massaging the delicate muscles. When she softly squeezed Maura's beautiful butt, she felt the doctor lean against the car to steady herself and quickly rose to whisper in her ear, "And for ignoring me completely." Her hands gravitated back to Maura's hips before gliding in front to grasp the fasteners of the slacks while her whole body sought contact against the doctor's curvy frame.

"Jane," Maura said, startled as she felt the detective's hands undoing her pants. But Jane wouldn't hear any of it, shushing her as she slid her hand past the waistband. "Jane," Maura tried again to turn and face her. "We have to talk."

"No," Jane breathed, her fingers ghosting across Maura's wet panties. Maura arched her back automatically. "We're the way we are because of talking." She applied pressure through the garment and Maura's head tilted back at the spikes of pleasure. "So no more talking."

The hand touching her waist combined with the fingers toying with her underwear became too much for the doctor to handle. "Well if you don't want us to talk, we won't talk," Maura decided. She turned, pulling the detective with her until Jane's back was against the car and Maura's hand was on the back of her neck, pulling her in for a blazing kiss.

She pressed herself against Jane who was straining against her to kiss her fiercely. She placed her hands on Jane's shoulders to try and keep the detective in place, but that plan fell through as her body acted without consulting her mind; the jacket fell to the bare concrete floor. Maura smiled seductively at the fact that there was one less layer separating the two of them and passed her hands over Jane's breasts before trailing along those muscular arms.

Their fingers folded together as their mouths met again and again, reaffirming with every new kiss how much they needed the other.

Jane dropped a linked hand to grasp the back of Maura's neck and support her as she forced the two of them forward. Her lips worked furiously against Maura's as the doctor's back hit the wall of the garage. Arching into Jane's touch, Maura's mouth opened wider in a gasp and Jane took full advantage, threading her fingers in luxurious hair before trailing kisses along Maura's jaw to her neck as the medical examiner panted quietly above her.

Fingers made quick work of Maura's blazer and shirt buttons, peeling them off hurriedly. "You're beautiful," Jane murmured reverently, eyeing the doctor's ample chest. Maura gave her a toothy smile as Jane lightly ran her fingers over the fabric of her bra.

"Jane, as great as it would be to have hot make up sex with you right here, I think it would be hotter," Maura paused to nip Jane's ear affectionately, "if you took me to our room." She placed her hands on the front of Jane's slacks and nudged the detective's shirt up a bit before undoing the hooks.

Jane gulped. "The only way we're making it to the bedroom is if you run right now. And even then, I can't guarantee we'll make it past the living room."

Maura let out a carefree laugh, the kind that Jane had been missing the past few days. She pecked Jane on the cheek and then took off, giggling as she raced for the house. Jane simply shook her head and smiled, giving the doctor a tiny head start before chasing after her.


	50. Butterflies

Devastated. It was the only way to describe how she felt in that moment. She'd dressed up, taking longer than usual, putting forth more effort than usual because she wanted to look pretty for Jane. Just because it wasn't a romantic date didn't mean Maura couldn't flaunt herself a little bit. She was surprised more than anything to discover that Jane had tickets to the symphony. Tickets that she actually planned on using. But what really floored her is that Jane asked her to come along. _Her._ Not Agent Dean, not Casey, not any other guy or friend or guy friend. Her.

She'd done it in her typical goofball fashion, overplaying it with the exaggerated fluttering of her eyelashes, the over-the-top, down on one knee presentation of the tickets. But Maura's heart soared at the gesture regardless. She'd scampered off to find a brand new dress, one that clung to her curves and oozed class, and of course new heels had to go with it.

She felt like those teenage girls in those cheesy movies, getting ready for prom with their high school sweethearts. The 'butterflies' in her stomach, as Jane would call them, hadn't gone away. Until she'd walked up to the homicide unit and found Casey and Jane talking, heads bent closely together. The butterflies stopped cold.

She couldn't tell what was being said, but if Jane was still calm, if she wasn't throwing Casey out, then they were probably attempting to mend their relationship. A relationship that would edge Maura out of the picture of Jane's life soon enough. Her chest tightened and a lump formed in her throat. The smile dropped from her lips and the sparkle in her eyes dimmed to a drab gray.

Suddenly she didn't want to be there anymore. She didn't want to be wearing the off the shoulder, cream slip with black floral lace covering dress. She didn't want to be in the stunning heels she'd agonized over purchasing. Anywhere else, that's where she'd rather be. In her morgue performing an autopsy, cool and confident in her scrubs. In her home, feeding Bass some strawberries in what she classified as her 'lounge wear'.

Anywhere but watching the most harmful romantic relationship Jane had ever been in, being coaxed back into existence.

She shuddered out of her frozen state, spun on her heel, and fled to her car. Halfway to her house, Jane called.

"Isles," she declared, even though she knew that Jane knew she knew it was her.

"Hey, Maur, where are you hiding? I thought you were okay with coming with me tonight?"

Maura breathed deeply, trying to calm herself yet at the same time answer without lying. "I'm in my car headed home. I didn't think you required my services for the rest of the evening."

"Your services?" Jane gawked, confused. "Maur, I thought we were going to the symphony."

Clearly Jane wasn't going to make this easy for her. "We were, Jane, but I thought it was quite clear that you'd have a different date for tonight, given your recent visitor."

"Are you talking about Casey?" she asked, surprised.

Maura rolled her eyes, a habit she'd picked up from the detective. "Yes."

A brief pause. "Maur, you know we're not getting back together, right?"

Maura pulled over. She stopped the car, afraid her sudden onslaught of emotion might cause her to wreck. "You're not?"

A chuckle. "No, Maur. And besides, I made this date with you. I wouldn't ditch you for a guy; I thought you'd know that by now," her voice lilted into sadness near the end.

Wiping away at her eyes, Maura put the car back in drive. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Pick you up outside?"

"Okay," Jane laughed. "But I'm still the guy!"


	51. Skill Set

Maura was just stepping out of her car when a thunderous rumbling came up behind her. She spun on her toes and nearly collapsed against the driver's door at the sight.

_Why did no one ever tell me Jane Rizzoli owned a motorcycle?_

Her eyes roamed over the simply _delicious_ sight of Jane clad in a black leather jacket and tight, _tight_ jeans. The added bonus of the image of said detective _straddling a Harley_ was nothing to scoff at either. Her calves were well defined, even underneath the thick layer of denim, and the steel-toe boots had a bit of a heel, truly making those outstanding muscles really pop.

Maura's gaze finally made the trip to Jane's face, zeroing in on the surprisingly stylish silver-rimmed aviators covering her eyes.

She swooned, leaning against the car door by necessity before she simply melted into a puddle at Jane's feet... which were attached to those gorgeous legs which connected to those womanly hips which gave way to those jaw-dropping, amazing abs and-

_No, Maura, if you keep thinking like that you might end up taking her right here in your driveway. Your parents raised you to be more private than that._

She was mildly surprised when Jane's hand stroked her cheek rather suddenly. Her eyes refocused only to find that Jane had turned off the bike and was now standing in front of her, staring down at her in acute concern.

"Maur, are you okay?" Jane grasped the doctor's chin, tilting her head this way and that.

"Nothing's wrong," she replied, licking her lips absently in want. Jane's hand dropped to Maura's waist.

"Are you sure?" Jane asked huskily, lightly running her hand over the fabric of Maura's dress, slowly drawing the material up. Maura swallowed thickly due to her suddenly dry mouth. _Jane truly is a goddess, _Maura thought as she raked her eyes over the leather-wearing, motorcycle-riding, mouth-watering detective.

Without forethought, Maura crashed their mouths together, smiling at Jane's audible approval. The brunette pushed her against the car door, clutching at her waist, smothering Maura with her lips. Her back automatically arched against the car frame and she groaned at the feeling of Jane's leg slipping between her own two.

A whistle brought them back to the present. It seemed that one of Maura's neighbours was very appreciative of the show.

Maura could tell from the look in Jane's eye that the detective was about to march over there and give his creeping ass a piece of her mind, but she placed her hand on a taut forearm, stroking in a calming fashion.

"Let it go, Jane. I can think of a better use of your skills," Maura stated and winked, leading the detective to the door and beyond that, the bedroom.

They stumbled through the last door like teenagers, always touching each other in some way. Even as they undressed each other, slipping shirts from skin, sliding jeans and skirts from gorgeous hips, they never pulled away enough to break contact. When they finally fell to the bed, their arms wrapped up in tangles together as they kissed.

Exploring, that's exactly what they were doing. Re-examining the pure, unadulterated beauty of the woman surrounding each, worshiping the flawed yet stunning skin in ways familiar and new.

They brought each other to the gasping, choking, screaming peak one right after the other, like cascading dominoes. And as they laid in the after glow, they attained that peaceful feeling, the one that lets you believe that everything will be perfect

Because it already was.


	52. Body Shots

"Jane, are you sure that this is hygienic?" Maura asked, eyeing the old wooden bar skeptically.

Jane rolled her eyes, "Maur, I know you always scrub diligently and hopefully you know by now that I also clean efficiently, so I really don't see the problem."

"But, Jane-"

"No, Maura. You're sucking it up and doing body shots with me." Jane glared mildly at her best friend, letting her know that she meant business.

Maura choked back any further argument as the detective began shrugging out of her blazer.

"Maura, you kind of have to take your shirt off, or at least bunch it up below your chest, but I know how you are about wrinkles and crap, so yeah... shirt off," Jane shrugged, unbuttoning her own top.

Maura stifled the flutter in her heart and took off her jacket, hanging it on the back of her bar stool.

"I'll go first so you know how it goes," Jane offered, yanking the tails of her button-down from her belted waist. She gestured for Maura to crawl up onto the bar.

After a split-second of hesitation spent giving the battered mahogany the stink eye, Maura clambered on top of it.

"Okay, good. Now lie back and just try to relax," Jane instructed as she came closer to Maura's mid-riff, motioning to the bartender behind the doctor subtly. She shook her head at her friend in disbelief. "I still can't believe you never did these in college."

"In my defence, I was very preoccupied with my studies and I didn't really have a lot of friends," Maura explained, breathing deeply to soothe her racing heart as she reclined onto the bar top.

"Yeah, well, we're about to fix that," Jane promised, trying very hard not to look at Maura's beautiful abdomen.

She failed. The bartender broke her of her ogling when he approached with a shot of tequila. Grinning, she shuffled sideways until she was leaning over Maura's head. "Are you ready?"

Maura gulped, visions of Jane's mouth touching her skin made her legs twitch. "As I'll ever be."

Now, there are a few different ways to do body shots. The most popular is to simply place a shot glass full of liquor on someone's stomach and take it without using your hands. It was cleaner and way more efficient, but the temptation to press her lips against Maura's flesh, to run the tip of her tongue over her under the pretence of licking up alcohol was too powerful to ignore.

She took the shot from the counter and tipped the contents into Maura's belly button, unsuccessfully ignoring the light shiver that ran through the doctor in front of her. Leaning down, she attached her lips around the alcohol, dipping her tongue into the crevice and hollowing her cheeks to suck the liquid into her mouth.

_Oh. My. God,_ Maura thought in staccato. She squirmed lightly when Jane's tongue tickled her, grasping the edges of the bar tightly in her shaking hands to keep from writhing from the simple touch. She'd done her research; she knew that the detective could've taken that shot in several other, less arousing fashions.

The contact vanished.

"See?" Jane said, popping back up into Maura's eyesight. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

The doctor could only shake her head. "Switch?" She asked breathlessly, already slipping off the bar. _Live a little, Maura, _she told herself as Jane pulled off the rest of her shirt.

Jane hopped onto the bar, actively avoiding a lingering gaze on Maura's _assets_. She settled down onto her back comfortably and waited for Maura to dump the shot onto her body. What she wasn't expecting was to feel the cool surprise of a shot glass being stuffed between her breasts, held in place with the bra.

She tensed, too afraid to breathe while gripping the bar in a mirrored movement to Maura's own mere minutes before. She wasn't prepared for the graze of Maura's tongue over the fabric covering her chest and felt herself melt as Maura ran her tongue over both of them before the cold of the glass vanished and oxygen shuddered back into her lungs.

A dull thud indicated that Maura had put the empty glass down and then her face was there, right above Jane's. "So how did I do, coach?" Maura asked, a teasing lilt to her sexy voice.

"S-swell," Jane stuttered as she tried to collect herself. And then she couldn't control herself, not with Maura's saliva still in contact with her skin, not with that beautiful, grinning face peering down at her.

She raised her head and kissed her, right there in the middle of the bar, without a single care.

Maura pulled away first, but she didn't move far. She simply slipped Jane's clothes from the stool to drape across her body and grasped the detective's hand, pulling lightly.

Jane fished a twenty from her pocket and tossed it on the bar before following the good doctor anywhere she wanted to go.

Just so happens that they ended up heading back to Maura's for a few more lessons on body shots and perhaps a few other college-age activities as well.


	53. Camping

It's almost dark by the time Jane returns with a double-armful of firewood and Maura's already set up the tent and their sleeping bags. She's putting the finishing touches on the placement of the lamps inside when she hears under-her-breath, agitated swearing from the brunette outside. Wiping her hands on a towel, she walks out to see what's going on.

To her surprise, the fire's lit; the profanity not the result of unsuccessful fumbling with matches. Instead, she finds Jane elbow-deep in their food chest, searching for something.

"Jane,what are you looking for? I can most likely tell you precisely where it is," Maura tells her. "Or at least I could before you went rifling through everything."

"It's fine, Maur, it'll only take a – Yes, there is it!" She declares triumphantly as she pulls a small paper bag from the depths. She jumps to her feet and reaches for Maura, taking her hand and pulling her over to the fire she'd coaxed into existence mere minutes before.

"Okay, now you sit there," Jane instructs as she points to a log with a blanket draped over it. Before she takes her own set on a bare log across the fire from her best friend, she jogs back over to the tent and grabs a couple of sticks. She offers one to Maura who simply stares at it. Jane rolls her eyes, "Maur, we're making s'mores, you need to have a stick to roast your marshmallows."

Maura would really like to take the tree limb, really, she would, but her mind keeps spouting facts and figures about the bacterial count and which bugs live here and the massive variety of animals that could've _marked_ it as their territory and her hand stays by her side. "Jane – I – the sanitation standards out here..." She trails off, unsure of how to finish that sentence.

Jane gives her a look that screams, _really?_ but gets up and walks over to Maura, sitting down beside her. She holds the stick out to the doctor again, "Maura, it's a bamboo skewer from your kitchen. I'm using the tool from the forest, not you. I know how you are about these things."

On auto-pilot Maura takes the proffered piece of wood, her mind too busy processing this information. _She knows how I am about these things. She brought me a skewer so I could still enjoy this with her. She covered the log with a blanket so I wouldn't ruin my clothes._

_God, I'm in love with her._

Jane smiles widely at Maura as they both take a marshmallow from the bag and the pathologist knows she's a goner. It's easy to feel herself fall just a little more in love with her best friend as they laugh and attempt to carefully melt pieces of chocolate bar onto graham crackers.

It's one of the best experiences of her life, and there's no one Maura would rather share it with.


	54. IKEA Pride

**Usually I don't single out the requester, but you can thank noblegraces for this particular prompt.**

* * *

_Friday._

"Okay guys, funniest experience fuc- I mean, messing up with IKEA furniture; go!" Frost calls out to the group, sending an apologetic smile Maura's way.

"Thank you, Barry," Maura says as she sips from her wine.

"Easy, first apartment after moving out of my folks' home and I'm sitting on the floor in what was supposed to be the bedroom. There's like, half a forest worth of lumber in there with me and at least five different little plastic bags full of hardware scattered all over the floor," Frankie laughs and shakes his head. "I can't even read the instructions because they're all in Swedish and then Jane just walks in and starts cracking up; doesn't even offer to help a brother out!"

"Well, can you blame me? Big, bad Francesco Rizzoli couldn't even put together an IKEA bed!" She snorted. "Everything in my first place was from IKEA and I managed to put it all together, by myself no less," she tips her beer at him in a mock-salute. He simply purses his lips and glares at her.

They go around the table, sharing bad construction stories, but when they get to Maura and she just kind of looks at them with pure innocence, Crowe (who had previously been fairly quiet in regards to the females in the group) says, "Oh, come on, the Doc's never built IKEA crap before."

"Hey now, Crowe, you can't just assume that!" Jane levels a hardened glare at the ass. Sure, she'd been thinking basically the same thing, but it was the delivery that made all the difference.

"As unfortunate as assuming something is, Detective Crowe, you are right. I have not yet had the pleasure of building IKEA furniture," Maura admits. Then she shrugs, like she's watched Jane do after admitting something that's embarrassing, and Jane almost lets her jaw drop.

_Sunday._

"Come on, Jane, your mother will be here in four hours to start dinner and we still have to buy groceries and clean up the house a bit!" Maura called from her entrance way, waiting for the procrastinating detective to join her.

A few rhythmic thuds indicated that Jane had just descended the stairs, "Yeah, yeah, Maur, I'm coming." She stops briefly in front of the doctor to pull on her black leather jacket and her trusty boots. Pointedly, she ignores Maura's fleeting look of disdain, directed at her chosen footwear.

Just as Maura reached for the keys, Jane's hand was there, beating her to the punch. "Jane!" Maura admonished, cocking a hip and holding her hand out.

Jane shook her head, "No way, Doctor Isles, I'm driving. Just accept it so we can avoid a five-minute banter-battle which you know I'll win."

Maura's eyes narrowed, but Jane's smirk didn't even flicker. "Oh, very well," Maura acquiesced, exiting the house rapidly, much to Jane's amusement.

_Dr. Smartypants doesn't even have a clue,_ Jane thought to herself gleefully.

Her plan went off without a hitch, at least, that is, until she made a turn that put them in the complete opposite direction of the grocery store; something Maura did not fail to notice.

"Jane, where are you going? The store's back there!" Maura twisted around in her seat, watching their destination fade away in the distance. When the detective didn't answer, Maura turned her head to evaluate her only to find her smiling mischievously. "Seriously Jane, where are you taking me?"

"You'll see," Jane answered cryptically and not five minutes later, Maura can make out the outline of a huge, horizontal building, painted an unfortunate combination of blue and yellow.

"Where are we?" Maura asked, unable to see a sign anywhere.

Jane tossed her a sidelong look, "We're at IKEA. You're getting something and we're going to build it before dinner."

"But – Jane, the groceries!" Maura said, a small pit of anxiety taking up residence in her stomach.

"Ah, don't worry about that, Maur. I got Frankie to take care of it. We'll be in, out, and done in no time, just you wait," Jane assured her, confidence oozing from every pore.

_One and a half hours later._

"Seriously, Maura, just pick something. Please. We've been here forever," Jane whined as she collapsed onto a display of throw pillows. They were in the bedroom section and Maura still had yet to decide on something. "Just pick a bookcase or something. You have lots of books, surely you'll be able to use another one at some point."

Maura tutted. "Jane, the colour scheme in my house is very particular. I can't just throw things in haphazardly. It has to _match_."

Jane snorted. "Fine, then it doesn't even have to go to your place. I'll buy a bookshelf and we can put it in my place once we're done building it. This is really more for the experience than anything, Maur."

"Look, Jane! It's perfect!" Maura cried, clapping happily and pointing. Jane rolled her eyes before getting up and walking over.

Jane paled quickly, swallowed hard, and raised her eyebrows at the doctor. "Maura Dorothea Isles, is there something you want to tell me? Because right now I'm looking at a crib..."

"The colouring is perfect! It'll match my other furniture!"

"But Maur, you don't have a kid!" Jane exclaimed loudly.

Maura frowned. "Okay, there is that, but it would fit so well," she sighed longingly. "Oh alright." She gestured vaguely to her left. "That one, in the darkest stain they have. It can go in the basement or your apartment."

Jane grinned, happily writing down the number for it.

_Thirty minutes later._

"I really do believe we're missing some screws, Jane," Maura said again.

Jane waved her off, "Maura, it's fine. We're not missing any screws. I checked."

Maura pursed her lips but didn't repeat herself, opting instead to study the instruction booklet as Jane laid out the different cuts of wood. Her brow furrowed. "Jane, do you understand this at all?"

The detective rolled her eyes. "Of course, Maur. You literally just piece it together as it shows in the diagrams. Easy as pie, I promise."

The brief silence was shattered by Jane's phone ringing. Sighing, she shrugged her shoulders apologetically as she moved into the next room.

Left to her own devices, Maura was suddenly terrified of messing this project up. She could hear the muffled sounds of Jane arguing with her mother, the repeated "Ma!"s giving it away.

She took a deep breath. _I can do this. It's following a set of instructions made for people with a lower IQ than me. I can conquer a little bedside table._

She picked up one of the pieces and started her puzzle.

* * *

Jane leaned against the door frame, the conversation with her mother long finished. She couldn't help the grin that crossed her face at the sight before her: Maura was kneeling on the floor, screws littering the carpet around her, while she twisted the instruction sheet to every angle, unable to make sense of them.

"Okay, okay, you can do this. A goes into E and F using the mortise and tenon joints, as well as the dowelling," Maura murmured to herself, scanning each piece of wood for the appropriate letters. She reached for the spot where the collection of dowelling had been... before Maura had started her attempt. "Oh fudge clusters, where've they all gone?" She huffed in a very Jane-like fashion, and then she pulled her legs out from underneath her and simply reclined on her floor.

As entertaining and hilarious as the scene may have been, Jane decided to ease Maura's suffering. Walking from her hiding place she asked, "Hey Maur, need any help?"

The blonde jumped up, smoothing her skirt as she rose fluidly to her feet. "Actually, some assistance would be greatly appreciated, Jane," and she smiled widely at the brunette.

Jane sinuously folded her legs to sit on the ground, prompting Maura to follow her lead. She picked up one of the pieces of the tenon pieces and swiped a few dowelling from where they'd rolled earlier. Quietly, she showed Maura how they went together and the doctor breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally able to fit some aspects together.

Fifteen minutes later, a brand new table was standing upright in a corner of the kitchen, ready to be shown off.

Maura beamed grandly when Jane pointed it out, once everyone had arrived. She glowed with a reddish tinge to her cheeks at the spontaneous applause that followed Jane's little introduction.

Jane had seen Maura deliver two hour lectures on the beauty of y-incisions. She'd been there for Maura's first successful joke, her first Rizzoli family dinner, and never before had she ever seen the pathologist look so proud.


	55. Dreaming

Your breath hitches and your eyes widen. _When did she get so close?_ You can smell the different nuances between her shampoo and her perfume because she is standing with her nose a mere inch from yours.

You stiffen and tense at her proximity, forcing yourself to remain still even though all you want is to lean forward and lay a kiss on the tip of her cute, little nose. Even though her lips are looking as kissable and inviting as ever.

But you know you're not supposed to; it's not your place, not your privilege. You clamp your jaw tightly shut as her eyes rise from the floor to your face, searching.

"Jane," she whispers softly, the word washing over you, bringing life to the butterflies in your gut. You meet her gaze and a ripple of shock passes through you, making you gasp. You've seen her dressed to the nines for galas and benefits, but you've also seen her in jailhouse orange. She was beautiful in both, but with her eyes shining and focusing on you so intently, with those confident fingers drawing closer to cup your cheek, you don't think she's ever been more gorgeous, more stunning, more unattainable than she is right now.

When the tips of her fingers graze your flushed skin, your eyes close and a weak sigh escapes through your mouth. With just one touch of the softest skin there ever was, your muscles relax and you breathe out a small, "Maura."

The grin that lights up her face at the sound of her name both breaks your heart and gives it wings. Her thumb strokes your cheekbone and you say her name again, just as breathless. Your eyes flutter open at the unmistakeable feeling of her lips on your cheek. It's gentle; a fleeting meeting of warm skin and warmer lips.

"Please." Your voice is small and you don't know if you're asking her to stop or begging her for more.

"Jane?" she murmurs. Her own eyes are closed, but slowly the eyelids lift to reveal those entrancing, hazel pools. "Don't you want this?" The vulnerability in her mesmerizing voice shakes you to your very soul.

You watch as her expression fills with sadness and remorse. You want to cry because angels should never have to weep, as the one in front of you seems on the verge of doing. Without allowing yourself to second-guess, you press your lips against hers for the very first time.

It is better than all of the fantasies you've ever allowed yourself to indulge in. It's chaste and sweet, but it would be hard to ignore the fiery flames of passion, lurking barely beneath the surface. Your heart's been aching, but now those have magically melted away. If you were being girly and cliché, you'd say that the sparks you'd felt would put all of the fireworks in the world to shame.

You draw your mouth from hers and rest your forehead carefully against hers.

"Thank you," she whispers. You smile and pray desperately that this isn't a dream.

Suddenly, you realize that you're allowed to kiss her now, and you chuckle with relief. Then you do what you've been dreaming of doing for ages, almost as long as you've known her. You place your hand under her ear and you kiss that perfect nose.


	56. My Favourite Jane Rizzoli

She's not jealous. The tiny ball of pressure in her gut is entirely normal when there's a sketchy delivery man hitting on her best friend. It's entirely acceptable to be concerned on her behalf and want to chase him away, run a full background check, and lock herself and Maura in her room until she knows for certain that nothing will happen between them.

It's also entirely plausible that Jane would rather it was her who got to go to dinner with the doctor tonight before curling up on her couch together to watch a movie and the sports highlights, for completely platonic reasons, of course.

She knows she's glaring unabashedly at the two flirting in front of her, but she just can't seem to stop. The mental image of herself striding forward confidently and telling the guy in no uncertain terms to get lost because Maura already has everything she needs is awfully tempting to bring forth to reality.

Her fists clench at her sides to keep herself still.

"Maura," Jane calls through gritted teeth. The doctor in question pauses in her flirtatious banter to face the detective.

"Yes, Jane?" Her voice is a few notes higher than usual, drifting in a carefree manner. Abruptly it turns serious as she takes in Jane's rigid posture and deadly demeanour. "Jane? What's wrong?" She politely disengages herself from the delivery guy and closes the door before turning her complete attention toward the brunette.

"Something's wrong with me, Maura," Jane admits, shoulders sagging in relief at the closed door.

"Do you need a doctor? Where are you injured? Why didn't-"

"No, Maur," Jane laughs shakily. "Nothing like that. My heart's just not listening to my mind very well right now and it's messing me up."

Maura's head tilts to the side as she studies her friend. "You know, hearts can't actually hear anything. That's what a person's ears-"

"Maura," Jane interrupts what she is sure would be a very informative, very adorable rant on literalism.

"Right," Maura agrees. "I'm sure you meant it in the figurative form."

"Maura," Jane says again, each repetition serving to calm her more.

"Yes?" The word is endearing and magnetic, drawing Jane closer to the doctor until they are mere millimetres apart.

They each hold their breath, both anticipating the conclusion neither could escape.

It is Jane's mouth which crashes against Maura's, taking the chance for them both, but it's Maura's hands which cup Jane's cheek and grab hold of Jane's lapel, bringing the two of them in tighter. Jane's hand finds its way to the back of Maura's neck and plays with the fine hairs there as she pulls lightly to increase the pressure.

Their blood is on fire, pure flames racing through their veins. Breathing is sporadic at best, air stolen during brief absences of plump lips.

When they pull away, they don't stray too far. Maura has a small, winning smile upon her face, whereas Jane's grin is a full-on, proud smirk.

"No more sketchy delivery men, Maur, okay? And no coffee baristas, like last week. Or construction workers as in the week before that," Jane asks.

Maura actually pouts. "But I still have three more professions on my list!" Maura proclaims, then blushes furiously.

"List?" Jane repeats, frozen in place. Maura nods.

"I was conducting an experiment on which male in which profession would best bring out envious feelings within a certain homicide detective."

Jane can only think of one thing she wants to know right now. "Why?"

Maura studies her for a moment, thinking, before she replies, "Jealous Jane Rizzoli is my favourite Jane Rizzoli."


	57. Ohana

Your heart fractures at the desperate, lonely look in her eyes and all you want to do is wrap your arms around her in a comforting hug. But you don't; you know what she's like: hugs don't do anything for her.

"I don't understand why," she chokes out through her tears as she stands, half facing you, half facing the door, with her fists clenched at her sides. Her hopeless eyes turn to you for answers you don't have. "She said I was like a daughter to her."

You can feel the tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as you watch your best friend, the best person you've ever known, slowly crumble in front of you. And then you stop thinking. You walk towards her and you pull her into your embrace. "Oh my darling, sweet girl, I don't know why she did it," you whisper against her ear.

It's unexpected when her arms wrap around your frame in return, but then her fingers are knotting themselves in the bagginess of your shirt, grasping and pulling as she sobs all the more viciously into your shoulder.

The person who made her feel like this is your mother, and right now, you're not sure that you're ever going to be able to forgive her. You wonder idly if you care if she'll ever forgive you for what you're doing. You don't think you do. You will always choose Maura. She will always be your family and she will never be left behind, not with you at the helm.

"I don't know why she did it," you repeat. "But I promise you, you are not alone. You never have to be alone ever again. I am here, Maur, and I will be here for you, no matter what, for as long as you want me to be, and probably far past that, as well." You tighten your hold as she cries harder, trembling violently in your embrace. "I love you, Maur, and I am your family. I will never desert you and I will never intentionally put you through pain. I'll chase away your fears and protect you from the monsters lurking under your bed. I'll be whatever you need me to be."

She presses her nose against your neck and takes a few shuddering breaths. You can feel her panic start to evaporate and the calm begin to settle in. Softly, you brush your lips against her hair to comfort her.

"Thank you, Jane," she mumbles against your skin. You smile.

"You never have to thank me, honey," you assure her. You squeeze her a little more tightly. "This is what family's for."


	58. Breakdown

There is nothing in the entire world which can smash Maura's heart to pieces like the view of one sobbing, retching Jane Rizzoli. Because she knows that there is nothing she can do. The detective only lets go like this when she's under the impression that she's alone, with no one to hear or witness her completely thorough breakdown.

Maura shifts her weight in the hallway from one foot to another and Jane stiffens in the next room at the slight creak from the floorboard.

"Maur?" She asks softly, not moving a single muscle.

Maura swallows thickly through the lump forming in her throat and walks over to sit cross-legged beside Jane. She takes a scarred hand into her dexterous fingers and and squeezes softly. "I'm right here, Jane, and I'm not going anywhere."

The words only seem to make Jane cry with more vigour, convulse more harshly upon the wooden floor, but she still manages to choke out an, "I know," in the smallest voice Maura's ever heard her use. On instinct, Maura places her other hand upon Jane's thigh and faintly starts to rub, hoping to soothe the detective with the contact.

Jane's reaction is immediate, like a dam bursting with an earthquake. Her arms fling themselves around Maura's neck, dragging the doctor closer despite the awkward entanglement of knees and limbs. Automatically, Maura's arms wrap around Jane's back, her hands unconsciously moving in soothing circles on her back as her sweater catches a fresh cascade of Jane's tears.

She can feel the connection between her own lacrimal gland and amygdala getting out of hand.

They don't move from the other's embrace for at least an hour. When Jane's tears finally trickle to an end, Maura places the softest of kisses on her temple, a mere sigh against moist skin. She clasps Jane's hands in her own, and gently leads her to bed.


	59. She Works Out

Is there a yummier sight than that of a tank topped Jane Rizzoli bench pressing one and a half times her weight?

Maura doesn't think so. She's supposed to be training hard on the elliptical, but the view is too distracting. Even from her distance a few feet away, she can see the beads of sweat gathering on the tanned skin. She wonders idly what it would be like to taste it. In general, perspiration has a salty tinge to the flavour, but her hypothesis is that where her lovers have told her she tastes like vanilla, Jane tastes like lavender.

A passing cop accidentally brushes her shoulder and it pulls her from her shameless ogling. She casts a quick glance around the room to ensure that no one has noticed her staring at the mouthwatering, model-like figure. Her eyes turn hard when she realizes that everyone's too busy openly appreciating the flex of Jane's exquisite brachioradialis, extensor muscles, and forearm flexors. God, and those deltoids and triceps...

She snaps her jaw closed when she discovers its slackened at the visual. The genius in her is telling her that she needs to put a firm end to these joint excursions to the gym, but the woman in her has her fingers in her ears, singing 'La la la la la' at the top of her lungs.

She watches as Jane places the bar back in the holder with a final exertion of effort. The detective rests a moment, flexing her arms almost unconsciously at the new lack of resistance in them. When she sits up, her eyes immediately focus on Maura and she grins triumphantly at the doctor. Maura returns the smile happily and wanders over.

"Like what you see, Doc?" Jane jokes, already chuckling.

"Oh, you have no idea."


	60. Hate to See Your Heart Break

There are tears in your eyes as the reality of the moment crashes into you.

"He asked you, didn't he?"

The moment you saw that ring on her finger, all of your worst fears came true. Your knees shake; your arms tremble with indecision. She won't even look at you and it only serves to make your hurt and pain shine through as anger.

"You are going to get married, aren't you?"

Your tone is spiteful and indignant while your heart is competing desperately within the confines of your chest in a race it cannot win. Casey's beaten you to the punch. And Jane – Jane said yes because the ring is there and her hand is over her mouth as she, too, starts to cry.

She still won't look you in the eye and it just makes the hole in your soul rip itself wider as the most suffocating feeling of dread spreads itself thickly over your entire being.

"You must have known how much I love you."

It's not the first time you've said those three words to her. It's not the first time you've given her countless exhibits of evidence that you're in love with her.

But it is the first time she hasn't said it back. The distinction is a blunted knife, sawing back and forth, across and through the most fragile heart there ever was.

You can feel your expression harden and it makes it easier for you to hurl your next words at her.

"What lie did you tell yourself every day? What fabrications did you have to make up in your mind to go about life with me this way?"

Your eyes are narrowed and you want to scream. You just need to get all of these emotions out of your brain and then you'll be okay again. Right? You just need to compartmentalize and then everything can go back to the way it was, before all of this.

"I didn't know how to tell you!" And you can tell that it's an admission.

You can feel your heart break and even though you know the origins of almost all the words you've ever had to use in a conversation, there is not a single word which could describe the hurt you're feeling right now.

You know you're shutting down. She can tell, too, because her brow furrows ever so slightly.

"I'm so sorry." The words are strained, like they're genuine, but you can't let yourself believe.

"I do love you," she finally whispers, eyes shut tight, body shaking.

Your heart splinters into microscopic fragments and you shake your head, willing yourself to unhear those perfect words falling from those perfect lips.

"I love you, too," you say, because it's true. "But I can't do this." You take off the necklace she gave you for your thirty-eighth birthday and place it in her hands. You curl her fingers around it so that it doesn't fall and then, on a whim, you bring her hand to your lips and place a gentle kiss there.

You don't say goodbye.

Two hours later, you find yourself sobbing quietly in your single First-class seat with a one-way boarding pass to London.

There was no gloriously beautiful reunion scene as the flight boarded. No jaw-droppingly stunning brunette detective came rushing up to her to demand her to stay. You know it's irrational, but you'd hoped for it anyway. You'd hoped that you could be enough, you could be what she wanted; what she needed.

You're used to being left behind. You're not so used to doing the leaving.

When the flight attendant offers you a beverage, you ask for their finest red and hint that she should leave the bottle. You watch as she takes in your designer clothes and run-down appearance before she nods and disappears.

An empty house awaits you when you land. A clean slate, a fresh start. You can pick the mantle of Queen of the Dead right back up off the dusty ground and this time fully embrace it.

You won't be able to forget about her, but at least you can learn from her.

Anyone you let in to your heart only ends up breaking it in the end


End file.
